


Vivat, Cinematography! Vivat, Thaddeus!

by Reveur22Nord



Category: Bolt (2008)
Genre: Actors, Alcohol, Art, Backstory, California, Complicated Relationships, Drama, Dreams vs. Reality, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hollywood, Humor, Inspiration, Obscene lexicon, Paranoia, Pre-Canon, Problem of choice, Psychology, Slice of Life, Suggestive Themes, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:40:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25226215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reveur22Nord/pseuds/Reveur22Nord
Summary: Sometimes ideas are meant to become reality, aren't they?





	1. Chapter 1

**Prologue :**

The first days of March, 2003, California.

Dark clouds moved out the city, slowly filling the entire space of the sky above the heads of passers. There was a peal of thunder, and then, as if gathering courage, he repeated the trick only louder and more powerful . Such a signal meant only one thing- you only have a few minutes to hide and no matter where : for example, go to inside any cafe, which in the city was immense number, of course, if you are not expelled back to the street because of lack of space inside or you can stand under a small canopy of the same ill fated institution, catching the glances of irritated waiters, but you can also hide under your open umbrella, the color of which you liked still in the store, quite a good solution, and then get to your house and stay more or less dry, or sit in your car, turn on the radio with pleasant music, and watch as others hide under the wide brim of beach umbrellas, laughing and hiding food in picnic bags so that it does not get wet.

The roar of thunder repeated itself, clearly offering one last chance of escape. After that there was a silence, which lasted only a few seconds, until one drop fell directly into the huge ocean. The chain reaction was instantaneous. Drops, one after another, began to fall on each surface, slowly at first, and then rushed faster and faster, sparing no one and nothing.

Locals and tourists were in a hurry to leave the open areas, especially on the long pier, which was a favorite place for many to spend their leisure time. The bars and restaurants, along the left-hand side of the wooden construction, were crowded with people, who were in an unpleasant mood because of the beginning of bad weather, which canceled all sorts of plans for an indefinite time.

In one of these places two elderly ladies sat at a table. Their hands were busy with expensive cameras. Photo lovers watched the elements through a large round window, sometimes alternately sighing. Afterwards one of them lower her head, looking at the device, and then she pressed a button and began to look through the pictures had taken that afternoon. 

\- I thought so...we should have been at the pier much earlier...

Her friend tightened grip on her equipment, sighing but still watching the rain.

\- Really, what are we going to show in the photo club? I have some pictures of the beach and a bit of the Ferris wheel...and what about you, Margaret?

She just waved her hand, and then continued to study the photographs.

\- Only buildings nearby...okay, we will think of something, it won't rain forever...

The clown, standing near the door of cafe and dressed in a bright costume, smiled wearily, clutching a large hat in absurdly colored gloves. Many creative people like him performed on the pier and this occupation brought them a good profit.

\- I don't want to upset you, Madam, but it's a long time coming...

The women immediately looked at each other, realizing that today about the nearest photo session other interesting places can not even remember. Some family, or rather parents with a small daughter, who came to see the legendary pier, were sitting at a table before the rain began. The head of the family curiously asked the clown a question.

\- You're local, aren't you ? When will it end ?

The man turned his whole body toward him, though it was difficult to do so in the crowd.

\- Not quite...but for a few years spent in this place, I think, with high accuracy, that rain will go until the night...

At this point woman scowled, stirring her green tea with a spoon, and girl was sadly playing with stuffed toy, which her father had won in one of the stalls. 

  
The establishment, to the indignation of some people, continued to accept visitors who failed to find hideout. However, such latecomers had to content themselves with just standing around the tables of other people, who ate warily the ordered food and at the same time made sure that someone's hand did not steal their fries.

However, there were also those for whom decrease in free area was not the main problem now.

\- No, no, no...it it doesn't seem logical...if I was a spectator in a cinema, I'd start throwing rotten tomatoes right at the screen...

A man , sitting in the far corner of a crowded place, a quick movement of his hand crossed out dont liked suggestion. There were already twenty sheets of paper on table , crossed out by a strong pressure on a pencil on both sides, as if they were full of nonsense.

\- Stop...why this action is here?!...that should be in a completely different part...

He began to examine each pieces of papers, but after a minute snorted and frowned, taking from backpack, which lay next to his chair, a few more new and clean sheets.

\- Well Done, Thaddeus...just a master of losing important information...

Writing number twenty one on a piece of paper, Thaddeus, an novice director and screenwriter, began to prescribe the action scene from the beginning in small sentences.

Indeed, it was so convenient for him, and his small film crew did not express any objections, allowing their boss to creative notes as his soul wants , but only if then these ,, creative impulses,, will dont go out the modest budget of the short film, which they were shooting for the second week. Thaddeus looked up from the text, when he was sure that everything was written correctly, but as his blue eyes scanned the cafe, he'd been in for about two hours, novice director realized with a slight sense of disappointment that either a celebrity had come here, or the weather anchor had been right again , when he asked not to take sunscreen to the beach because it wont be necessary.

\- Don't tell me it's raining cats and dogs...

The some guy, standing next to his girlfriend and drinking coffee with her, smiled at his words.

\- It's been an half an hour, sir...

Thaddeus listened attentively, but apart from the noise of people talking and laughing, it was impossible to understand that the weather changed not into the most suitable.

\- Okay...I can't do anything about it...

He began to pack his notes into backpack, then slung it over back and headed into the thick of the crowd.

\- I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...Yes, I'm sorry!...I don't like being trodden on my new shoes either...

When, at last, his long legs, which were the cause of one scream ,, Ouch ,, , led him straight to the front door, Thaddeus, beginning to watch the rhythmic thud of the drops on each surface, slightly furrowed his brown brows.

  
\- Sir...I wouldn't advise you to go out...now...

The clown looked at him seriously, although with his makeup on face, it looked very comical.

\- Don't worry , it is not far away and...NOW !

Pushing the door open with hand, novice director quickly taking off his backpack and, placing it on top of head, ran out into the outside amid the shouts of the people .

\- Crazy !

The old woman exclaimed, following Thaddeus with her eyes.

\- Oh , come on, Margaret. In our youth, we ran in t-shirts and shorts during hail and snow storms...

From a small group at the next table came a question, asking with undisguised curiosity.

\- Do you have any other interesting stories? 

The old lady smiled sweetly.

\- Of course, if you don't mind, I'll tell you how we came out of the desert with one bottle of water...

The city of Santa Monica was in a state of continuous downpour, although the rainy season in this place was soon to end.


	2. The creative process, or everyone starts small.

\- Hmm...

The spoken interjection finally shattered the silence, that had prevailed in the small living room for some time. 

\- Hmmm...

This happened again, ultimately making the silence share a place in a small area of the apartment. A few seconds later heard the characteristic creak, that usually occurs in old furniture, that knows more than a dozen tilts of human backs.

-Hmmm...

The man, sitting on the dark green sofa, crossed fingers and raised them to lips. His body position gave him the impression of being thoughtful and searching for some answers, that came to mind at different rates and were either immediately rejected or passed a thorough fitness test in his situation. 

\- Hmmm...

Dark brows furrowed, and gray eyes stared earnestly at the small coffee table, and, to be more precise, what was lying on it.

\- Hmmm...

Eight spread out keep-cases with downloaded action movies on disks, took on all the inquisitive gaze of the man opposite for a long time. However was another creak as the man leaned back, pressing his back against the soft back of the sofa and closing eyes, as if to allow himself a little respite.

(Knock! knock! knock! )

\- I hope someone got the wrong door...

(Knock! knock! knock! )

-I don't use creams!

( Knock! knock! knock! ) 

\- Thaddeus! Get out of your hole and open the damn door! I'm too busy, but a creative bum like you can do it!

(KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! )

These last sounds of a fist hitting the door sounded very ominous and aggressive, but the man only muttered irritably at such actions, how they can't leave him alone. He was about to return search for important answers, when a small occurred to him. The man slapped forehead.

\- Oh...I hope the door has good sound insulation...

Getting up from the sofa and heading for the door to the hallway, he scolded himself for forgetfulness, but then self-reproach quickly gave way to acceptance of this turn of events, because it happens in life and there is nothing wrong with the fact. But when he looked through the peephole, at first slowly moved away from it with a grimace on face, as if he saw something that he never wanted to see in his life, but than still took a bunch of keys, although very reluctantly

A moment later there was a faint tinkle, and the man turned the key in the right direction, though not fast, as if to prolong the moment that might overtake him .

\- Hi...

He spoke calmly, when he saw Thaddeus, standing in the doorway, completely wet and with a rucksack in hands. His malicious and deprecating look said a lot, but the man, undeterred by his friend's withering gaze, only uttered with a calm face. 

\- I came a little early, as we agreed, to prepare the cameras and the rest of our modest equipment, and I washed the bath, because it is not considered royal for you affair...in I also cleaned the living room and the kitchen, washed the dishes left over from Thursday and changed the batteries in the TV remote control, and rearranging your entire movie collection in alphabetical order...Oh, Yes, I fixed the leg of the kitchen table with baby glue for applications, the only thing that was in the store opposite, there, by the way, the discounts are good, you do not go there in vain...

He saw the novice director’s face change instantly from irritated to discouraged. And then the man asked in the same calm tone.

\- Is it drizzling outside?

Thaddeus put on an angry face again and, pushing him away with hand, entered the apartment, throwing sodden backpack on the floor and walking through the living room directly to his room.The door slammed shut.  
His friend sighed with satisfaction and closed the door. 

\- Well, it could have been a lot worse...

He went back to the living room and sat down on the sofa, which creaked a little and then fell silent. The man stared at the same spot across from him, his mind spinning with different thoughts, but when he happened to glance at the coffee table, the man sighed heavily, as if he had an unbearable burden, that could not be removed.

\- Serge! Where is Humphrey?!

Thaddeus shouted from his room, startling the man, and heavy thoughts seemed to vanish into thin air.

\- He'll be here in twenty minutes!

The director said nothing. Serge is a man who graduated from a local College in the Department of cinematography in the past year, was the chief assistant novice director, ranging from transmission equipment for filming at all locations on street in the heat of forty degrees or a blizzard and ending with a arrangement of forks and spoons, as the script demanded such an locations of cutlery, but his main task was the camera work, that Serge could lead for a very long time, while wondering when the other two participants in their small creative team, dreamed only of how to relax. He was of a large build and tall, with a broad beard and a slight hump on his nose, but this almost threatening appearance was not in keeping with his character, because he was the kindest person of all at heart , however, if a person deserved to be treated like this. 

-Oh, by the way, I brought movies, borrowed from you!

He screamed again, as Thaddeus, already dressed in warm, dry clothes, left the room. Entering the living room, novice director looked first at the operator and then at the keep-cases of disks. His annoyance subsided a little, and pronounced with undisguised curiosity.

\- Don't worry! I told, you could keep them...and then, when I'm famous, you can sell them for a tidy sum...

Thaddeus did not miss, how quickly his friend looked at the coffee table with a strange and incomprehensible look, and then back at him, only now face was completely unflappable. The man found this rather suspicious.

\- No, don't ...if I borrow only for a while, I keep only for a while...and who in the all world would buy these disks just, because they belong to some Thaddeus Shaminski?! 

The man only lifted his chin proudly.

\- Okay, but after I get my fifth Oscar, don't even call me to complain about needing the most expensive mansion in the Beverly Hills area...

He walked out of the living room and into the corridor, still looking haughtily ahead of him. Serge remained sitting on the sofa with his hands behind head, and then said with mock sadness.

\- But I need a house in the Bel Air area...

Returning to the operator, Thaddeus held the open backpack, soaking wet that the drops continued to fall on the floor, leaving a small trail. Serge ignored this, however, concentrating with interest on the not big and most importantly dry bundle of papers in Shaminski's hands.

\- It's tempting...

Serge assumed a serious pose, leaning forward a little, what caused the creaking reaction of poor sofa. The novice director handed operator the script, and he read it with great curios.

\- Do you think it's passable ?

Thaddeus chuckled, and the operator shook his head.

\- Hmmm, not bad, not bad...will you do the storyboard ?

The man asked him, when he already taking large sheets of paper from backpack.

\- That's it! But I'm not sure that the light in the bathroom will be enough for us, we will have to take my desk lamp, it's good that the microphone is all right...

Serge looked again at the text Thaddeus had given him, smartly exploring each offer. 

\- We only have two SLR cameras... I assume you want to shoot from two different angles without changing your position ?

His creative colleague, sitting in a chair, already quickly drew pictures on the sheet , and then answered, without looking up from the process.

\- Yes...Oh, I almost forgot, catch it !

He reached into backpack again and tossed two black lenses to the operator.

\- Oh, cool, finally, and the ones that we took at the flea market, have already outlived their...

The man put the script aside, meantime Thaddeus continued work.

\- I'll try to mount it by next Saturday...By the way, we need photos for a short film. You're kind of decent at it...can you take pictures of different landscapes?

The operator examined each lens in his large hands.

\- If you say so, I'll ask to borrow a good professional camera at work...Besides, I know some good places, so it's just a matter of time...

Then he added.

\- Have you already decided what the final will be?

The proud director paused, and then, putting a pencil behind his ear, picked up a sheet of different images. All this time he was drawing on his lap, sitting in a chair the same color as the sofa, however, unlike the latter, it did not make a single sound.

\- I want it open-ended...what do you think?

Operator shook his head.

\- We can add a black screen, and then a voice recording, that the character, even though he has lost part of himself, is ready to move on...

Thaddeus smiled broadly, then high-fived friend.

(Knock! knock! knock! )

\- Our Mr. actor deigned to come...

Serge, putting the lenses on the sofa, went to hallway, but by this time the novice director had picked up pencil again, adding a few touches to the storyboard. With great enthusiasm in blue eyes, he examined scenes that will soon appear before the eyes of viewers, will coming to enjoy short films from all over the country. The feeling that he was doing something creative , always captured Thaddeus completely and even as a kid, when parents gave him the first video camera, he took everything in a row, and then in the evenings, with the awe of a child, showed his videos to relatives who often came to visit them in their big house.

Soon Thaddeus heard, how the door opened and satisfied laugh in hallway. He frowned, checked his drawings again, and than picked up the script on the couch.

\- I wonder if he's learned the monologue ?

The door noisly slammed shut, and then Serge and another guy came into the living room.

\- Greetings, Supreme commander of our small army!

He gave honor to Thaddeus, to which he rolled eyes.

\- Humphrey, did you learn the monologue for tonight's shoot?

Humphrey is a guy, who by his participation in all the actor castings of the state of California, brought irritation on more large part of the producers, and also having , in his opinion, universal charisma, was the main and only actor in the short films of Thaddeus and Serge. He was a little wet, too, but not as wet as novice director, who had come first. Actor was of small stature , the shortest of the group, and had slightly curly black hair. He was built rather thin, but this did not reflect on his explosive and reckless nature.

\- Of course! When have I ever let you down?...

Thaddeus rolled his eyes again, handing over the script. With a significant look, the actor held out hand, taking the text, as though doing some favor. He read it for a few seconds, then raised his brown eyes to the director. 

\- I hope...you have not changed anything in the script ?...You know, Mr. Shaminski, that it is very difficult immediately change the character of my amazing hero...but if you increase my fee!...

The man's right eyebrow arched at the words. Thaddeus said with obvious boredom.

\- You work for food and cigarettes, Humphrey...Or should I get another actor?...What do you think, Se...

Before he could finish the operator's name, the actor had a script between his teeth. He immediately ran into the hallway and a second later came out with a sports bag. After that, Humphrey almost skipped to the bathroom, then slammed the door and shouted, apparently, freeing his mouth from the paper. 

\- I change clothes and we immediately shoot a scene !

The director allowed himself a sarcastic smile. However, when he turned attention to Serge, he noticed that Serge was looking at the floor with his arms crossed at chest level, strangely thoughtful.

\- Tovarish Tolstov ! 

The operator blinked for a few seconds in some incomprehensible state, and then turned to Shaminski, as if nothing had happened.

\- Oh...I think we should remove them...

He took the DVDs keep-cases into arms, then carried them to Thaddeus's room. Shaminski only shook head, looking at the empty coffee table.

\- Oh, come on...don't create problems out of thin air, Thaddeus...

Muttered he, however, after much consideration, novice director decide, that maybe Serge just going through about shoots shortfilm and because he gave up the idea of finding out about strange friend behavior, although, feeling a little tense, the man decided that would do it, but a little later.

Soon Serge returned to the living room, smiling, but for some reason it was a haggard smile.

\- Well, let's go to Humphrey...I'm afraid he's already caused a flood...

Thaddeus took a deep breath, rubbing forehead with his hand, and then exhaled wearily as he spoke to the operator.

\- Yes, I don't want to hear the downstairs neighbors talk about, how we flooded them...

Tolstov nodded and they both went into the bathroom. Opening the door, director and operator saw lying in a white bath Humphrey, almost completely immersed in the water and seemed ready to dive right now and only his pale hand was on the edge of the bath.

\- I see you're having fun, if you want I can bring a rubber duckling...

Serge joked to which the actor only replied irritably.

\- I'm going to cough with laughter...

He held a cigarette in his hand , the smell of smoke had spread throughout the room for a long time and now it was hitting hard right on the receptors of the nose. The operator began to wave hand to at least a little to ward off the unpleasant smell, but having already infused in the room for some time it was difficult to get rid of it with a repeated movement of the palm. Thaddeus malevolent glared at the guy, who without shame sometimes leaned forward a little to take a puff, and then pulled the puffs of smoke to the ceiling, after these to again plunged back into the warm water.

\- Humphrey, when will you stop smoking in my apartment?! You know, how I hate it...

The actor theatrically waved hand, and then put out his cigarette on the water, with a characteristic sound the butt went out and the man threw it on the floor, Serge on his actions clicked in discontent language .

\- Okay, don't get mad, Mister Boss...I'm just always nervous before a shoot...And the cigarettes help me to relax...

As he spoke, Tolstov surreptitiously picked up a bucket of water in the corner, and then, restraining himself from the incoming laughter, suddenly doused the actor's face. He screamed, cursing like a madman.

\- You're a fucking moron?!

Thaddeus was laughing with Serge, who said through his laughter.

\- I did everything according to the script, so all questions to Thaddeus ...

But director clapped hands loudly.

\- Okay, jokes aside, we have quite a little time, and still a lot of work...

Humphrey snorted, flexing the knuckles of thin hands.

\- All right, but then you'll buy me a whisky...

The operator and director nodded, but even Humphrey couldn't help but smile.

\- Okay, let's get started...

Serge, who had brought the equipment and placed it in two different places, right away took up the position of the second camera, which was supposed to shoot Humphrey full-face. He checked that it was focusing in the right place and set the new lens, as the director had done. A little way off, Thaddeus sat in the chair he had brought, holding the first camera with one hand, and than he stood up and checked the lighting again, which was just a desk lamp, but to the man's great delight , it was enough for filming. Then he began to talk about, what he wants from the actor, what should be his behavior, but allowed a little improvisation in the frame. After another glance at the script and brought storyboard, Humphrey nodded, and then repeated to the director the monologue he was to deliver at the end of the scene. Thaddeus was pleased.

\- Serge! Everything okay?

The operator looked out, turning his head a little to the right from behind the camera, and then gestured with hand showed ,,Okay,,. Thaddeus nodded at him.

\- Great! Humphrey get ready...

The actor took hands out of the water, running them through black hair, which made it shine, he closed eyes tightly, and then opened them after a few seconds. His face, sparkling with joy and amusement, turned into a serious, rather depressing and tired expression, usual, for his playing character.

At this time Thaddeus, back in place, checked the tripod, make sure that it held well, and also directed the light of a lamp standing on a high chair directly at the actor, a small microphone was fixed to the bath, however, so that it could not be seen. Preparations were completed.

\- So...

Each of the trio thought for a while about their future and what would happen to them next , but these short dreams were immediately dissipated, when in their place there was determination and full concentration on the task, that now lay ahead of them. The loud voice of the director sounded in the bathroom once again, giving the start for a complete immersion in the shooting.

\- Camera! And...Action! 


	3. Unusual observer, or changes have caught up with us.

The middle of April was rich in various events and especially in numerous creative festivals, that took place in different parts of the big country.

The five-day festival of short films ’’Solar Diva’’, the main venue for which was Hollywood, was one of those important film events where any film crew, that made a good and successful material, could hope to be recognized by local critics and the love of the public, if, of course, they managed to pass two competitive selections controlled by an expert jury. And then, among a large number of participants from all over America, fifty   
selected lucky winners will receive a special invitation, in which they will see congratulations on the release of their creation in front of a large audience, which means not only a cash prize, which is awarded to the winner of this festival, after the audience vote, but also a good opportunity to be noticed in the film industry of a large circle, which gives bonuses for promotion in the creative sphere in the future.

The theatre ’’Eastman’’ has been the main venue for the event for the last ten years. And today, on the final day of the festival, people, who know a lot about movies and creative in general, in anticipation of the upcoming viewing, filled the seats in the great hall every minute, leaving, in the end, no empty armchairs. Tickets were fully sold out two weeks ago.

\- Excuse me, but can you tell me what time it is?

The question came from an elderly man in a grayish business suit to a neighbor on the left. The guy raised his hand toward, peering at the silver hands and numbers on wrist watch, and then answered.

\- Fifteen minutes to seven, sir...

The man gave him a curt nod of thanks and turned face back to the screen. The neighbor supervised him for a moment, then then also decided to ask a question.

\- Are you a critic by any chance ?

The older man's dark brows rose at once, but a moment later there was a chuckle of satisfaction as the man leaned back in armchair, putting hands behind head and laying one foot on the other, than, while the toe of shoe made little circles in the air, he spoke in a tone of satisfaction.

\- If I were a critic I'd moved to the side seats in the hall, so it is easier to understand the film, because most of the noise and laughter is always in the center, and convenient to go out, if the phone call, but for quality sound you need to sit in a row, at a distance of two-thirds of the hall from the screen, and what about the first rows, I certainly would not recommend it, the neck will be sore after the first minutes of viewing...Well, we are a little above the middle and a few on the side, but for you and me these places are very good...Just because we paid for them...

The neighbor smiled at his answer. This gentleman really turned out to be an interesting representative of creativity.

\- But then who are you, if not a secret? I have seen you here during the four days of this festival...

A mysterious half-smile appeared on the man's face.

\- You just can call me a ordinary observer...

At this point, the lights in the theater began to slowly fade, after all, forcing the audience to concentrate before the upcoming movie show.The giant screen was immediately covered in white brightness, which caused most of those who came here to squint. 

\- Rather, you are better suited unusual observer...

The last thing the guy said and turned his head straight. Screensaver with the first short film appeared on the screen in calm and sweet colors.

At this moment, the unusual observer took a notebook and pen from the pocket of his gray jacket.The light coming from the screen was enough to write and understand sentences. His fingers ran quickly over several pages and stopped in the middle. The sound of the pen clicking was drowned out by the screams of the two characters on the big screen, after which the man looked at them ironically and quickly wrote down the beginning of the review in a notebook.

\- The costumes are beautiful, but the heroines overplay...

The man raised head , then once more added writting in notebook. 

\- They're terribly overplay...

He twirled the pen listlessly in pale fingers, continued to watching. What caught eyes on the screen, he immediately wrote down in a notebook, making notes about everything: about the acting, camerawork, script, and even the atmosphere of the film. More than an hour had passed, and in each of the nine short films, the man found pros and cons, what attracted him and what repelled him . He liked the other works viewed from the first day of the festival more or less, much better than last year. As for the opinion of the rest of the audience, the man could not give a definite answer, someone wiped away tears in sad moments that usually happened at the very end, someone laughed at the top of his voice when he heard a useful thing from a minor character, and someone did not remove a serious expression from his face, assessing each turn of the plot.

After a while, the screen saver of the final work appeared on the screen, the unusual observer turned another page and again quietly clicked the pen. To be honest, he was already a little tired of sitting in one place, although the hall held two times a fifteen-minute pause, but the man decided not to get up from his seat, checking the rest of the recordings made on other days of the festival. But now he was a little sorry for this hasty decision, although the joy that the tenth short film, which was the last in the program, would soon begin showing, warmed his heart.

\- Come on, kids...Make me speechless...

Well... they accepted challenge.

* * *

\- Sir ! Sir ! Are you okay ?

The same neighbor waved his hand before the eyes of the unusual observer. The old man, sitting wide-eyed and tense, made no sound. His hand gripped the body of the pen almost with a grinding sound, the tip of which rested directly on the blank sheet. Guy give it a gentle touched his reduce leverage from for what a man jumped up on place, if his scalded boiling water.

\- Um...I...What? Is it over?

He looked in all directions, but there were only two of them in the great hall. The guy shook his head in vexed, and then said.

\- Honestly, this last film completely amazed me, and I think, not only me, the whole hall, as if holding his breath watching what will happen next...And the main thing is that only three people participated in the creation of this short movie...

As he spoke, the elderly man began, like a madman leafing through his notebook in search of any records about this film, but he could not find even a grain of any information about that, as if at that moment there was no possibility that either to realize and write, it was only necessary to watch and do nothing else.

\- I can not even find the words for this creation, still goosebumps. It was visible and the skill of the only actor in the frame , and wonderful camerawork, and exciting to shiver the narrative, though the film was only twenty-five minutes, by the way, the smallest work of the presented...The director is definitely not a fool...

He observed, that a man his almost not listening anymore, only feverishly continues to seek the right pages, guy understanding smiled, only saying.

\- Well, I won't distract you from important business...Have a very pleasant evening, sir unusal observer...

He passed through the armchairs, and then went down the steps, but already being at the exit of the guy heard an elderly man shouted to him.

\- Director! What’name the director?! What's his name?! Do you remember?!

The man waved his notebook as he held on to the back of a nearby armchair with one hand. He frowned, and then said loudly. 

\- Thaddeus! Or rather, Thaddeus Isaac Shaminski, he and his team of Santa Monica!

The unusual observer nodded, thanking him warmly for his answer. The guy just waved at him and, smiled, disappeared through the doors of the great hall.

\- Yes-yes...How entertaining!

The old man slumped into a armchair, throwing head back and peering up at the red ceiling. Thoughts were racing through head like a whirlwind, and it seemed that if he didn't think about it now, the man would eventually lose something important, something special. In the end, unusual observer tore a blank page from notebook and then, with a quick movement of hand, wrote down everything he needed on it.

\- I think...Could use a little walk right now...

The man hastily shoved all the items back into his pockets, then quickly headed for the exit of the cinema hall. 

An unusual observer came out of the movie palace into the street, breathing the warm evening air. He crossed to the other side, and then went alongside next to off to the shops and restaurants where locals and tourists spent their evening. The man looked curiously at the signs of various establishments, and then took his phone from his light coat pocket, dialing a number as he went. There were beeps for a few seconds, but soon a serious male voice came out of the phone.

\- Mr. Varden, good evening...

He turned at the end of the street, continuing conversation, while the wind whipped gray hair.

\- Remember...How you complained that our creative enterprise does not have enough talented people? 

There was silence at the other end of the phone, and then an affirmative answer with a hint of disbelief.

\- Well ...I witnessed a pretty good perfomance...

Walking along the route known to him, unusual observer noticed not far the trashcan and, going to it, took out a notebook and a quick movement of hands tore it apart, then without any regret crumpled up the pieces of paper and threw it into the heap of garbage.

\- Unfortunately, I don't have much information...But you know what a storyteller I am...

He reached into his jacket pocket again to pull out the piece of paper. A satisfied smile returned to his face as soon as he looked at what he had written.

\- Let me tell you everything in order...

* * *

( A week after the events of the festival ’’Solar Diva’’ ) 

\- I told you we'd win! My intuition never failed me!

Serge nodded in satisfaction at his friend's words, smiling broadly and holding large bags of food in both hands. Meanwhile, Humphrey, puffing a little at the weight of his load, in the form of bags with booze, tried to keep up with him, while at the same time opening mouth to announce their victory again as loudly as possible. The mood of the operator and the actor was just amazing. These seventh short film they were able to prove to everyone that they can shoot, though small, but still masterpieces.

Suddenly Humphrey began to sing with a rush of joy, which caused passers-by to look askance at him.

\- We do not shoot nonsense, but only a miracle!  
No one can point a finger at us!  
And all because we do not shoot bad!   
And no one will take our talent away from us!

And then Serge began to sing in a bass voice, though he didn't have Humphrey's good ear, but operator didn't even care.

\- And who directed us?  
He waved his hand, said that we are cudgels!  
Gave on the head, to the text memorized faster!  
Who shouted us that we were like harlequins?  
And gave a kick to understand, how to look like the eagles!

And then they sang in chorus, scaring people away.

\- Vivat, Cinematography! Vivat, Thaddeus!  
Vivat, Vivat, Vivat!  
There is no better understanding of Cinematography, than Thaddeus's expletives!  
Vivat! Vivat! Vivat!

So two friends and went to the house of a novice director, singing and rejoicing from the heart.

\- Hey, Mr. Boss, we're here to celebrate!

Humphrey called, as he opened the apartment door and stepped inside, nonetheless no one answered his greeting. Serge's face changed at once, smile of satisfaction turned into a strained expression, and he walked with happy actor into the living room with undisguised anxiety.

\- Thaddeus, are you deaf? Let's call the girls, we will celebrate the victory!

Humphrey held the bags high, the clink of glass echoing through the room. 

\- Ow! Come on!

The guy immediately turned to the left, and then grinned, lowering hands with the bags and tilting head to the side.

Thaddeus was in the kitchen. He sat at desk with his arms crossed, his blue eyes gravely glaring at the wall opposite. But even the tension in novice director sitting position didn't put Humphrey off balance. The actor approached the man, bottles clinking again.

\- Hey...Serge and I even bought you your favorite beer ’’Lech’’ ...Of course, he wanted to take something stronger, like vodka, but I persuaded him to a more relaxed pastime...However I can run down to Jerry Thomas's bar, that dude can provide any drink, and you should see him juggling bottles with eyes closed...Just crazy! 

Thaddeus abruptly put his hands on the table, and then, rising from chair and stepping around the dazed Humphrey, went out of the kitchen, passed Serge, who was only frowning at him, and going to the balcony, slammed the door loudly. The guy put the bags on the table and then walked over to operator and asked a question, under this by continuing is in full bewilderment.

\- Is this how he celebrates our victory?

Tolstov only heaved a sigh and, putting the bags of food on the floor, move to the Shaminski, while taking the edge of the t-shirt Humphrey, who did not really want to chat with a man whose mood was now not the best. Opening the door, they both went to the balcony and found their friend leaning on the black railing and looking ahead. Thaddeus didn't even look at them when he said it, spilling all the bile, as if he'd been waiting for it for a long time.

\- I know all about it...

He peered into the sunset, the sun leaving the view, hiding every minute lower and lower, but it was all so attractive that it was impossible not to enjoy it, but the novice director was deeply spit on all this beauty, rather he looked only in order not to meet the eyes of those who were behind him back. Humphrey took a pack of ’’Marlboro’’ out of his dark jeans and pulled out a cigarette with a fast movement of his hand, but he stopped ,looked suspiciously at the silent Thaddeus and after a weary glance at the unused cigarette in his hand , the guy put it back in the pack and back in his pocket. Serge silent, rather with the realization that it was really too late for the news, that should have been told much sooner after all. The actor nervously adjusted his dark hair, he irritably tried to concentrate, that to correctly express himself, but the only thing, that the guy could utter, was only a question.

\- And who told you that?

Thaddeus turned his head slowly toward the actor, who was looking at him gravely.

\- Is that important?

But still, unable to withstand the intense gaze of the two friends, answered through clenched teeth.

\- Crone Liadain... She clearly heard, you arguing last week about your choice of day to leave...

Then he turned his whole body toward them, as if defying them by manner. Serge hated it, when he acted like that.

\- And? 

The novice director glared at him, clenching his fists.

\- WOW! I SHOULD BE HAPPY, RIGHT?! WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME BEFORE?! DOES EVERYONE IN DAMN SANTA MONICA KNOW ABOUT THIS EXCEPT ME?!

Humphrey tried to defend himself, but Serge stopped him with a hand on shoulder. The guy looked at operator in bewilderment, but he only nodded curtly, and then stepped forward a little, looking straight into angry Thaddeus's eyes.

\- Yes, we did wrong not to tell you right away and can't deny it..

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with hand, and then slowly lowered his hand to mouth, thinking. Shaminski snorted , still excited from short speech. Even ears and neck were red as if they had been rubbed for a long time. There was a sudden chuckle that eased the tension among the three men. Serge withdrew hand, revealing the tired but warm smile that usually comes from pleasant memories. 

\- Two years...I was remembering of Humphrey dropping the script into the ocean when we were shooting our first short...And then he tried to catch the text, but something went wrong, and eventually the boat capsized with all of us...You were scolding us, that we didn't even shoot a single take, and the costs have already appeared...

The actor grunted, clearly unimpressed by the abrupt recollection of a memory that did not present him in the best possible light. The novice director continued to watch them, glancing from one to the other. Resentment at his friends did not want to leave heart, and when it seemed that he would be even more angry after a small retreat from the operator, Tolstov spoke with a certain caution in his voice. 

\- In short, Humphrey will be playing in an off-Broadway theater...

Thaddeus's eyes widened at the news.

\- That...That true?

The actor again tried to smoke, but when already almost raised the unlit cigarete to his slightly dry lips, stopped, slowly raised his head, watching as the face of Thaddeus overcame various emotions, and then, loudly clucking his tongue, again sent it into a slightly worn pack ’’Marlboro’’.

\- Exactly! You think, I went to New York for two weeks in the winter just to take a picture with the Statue of Liberty and Santa ...

And then he added quietly.

\- Serge is going to Canada...he was invited to work as an assistant operator...

Tolstov only shook head, and then talk to the shocked director.

\- They've been inviting me since late december...However, I asked them to give me a few months reprieve...Humphrey did the same...

He paused for a moment, then started to continue, but was rudely interrupted by Thaddeus.

\- You are complete idiots...

Shaminski buried long fingers in unruly hair.Then he bared teeth, slapping forehead loudly, and whirled around to face the black railing , but a few seconds later with a despairing sigh he turned again and, reddening with anger, shouted at his friends.

\- THIS IS HIDEOUSLY! THIS IS JUST A PATHETIC ACT! HOW DID YOU EVEN COME UP WITH THE IDEA TO STAY FOR A WHILE, WHEN YOUR DREAM IS ALMOST IN YOUR HANDS?! HOW CAN YOU BE SO CARELESS ABOUT YOUR CAREER?!

After this tirade, the actor and the operator just looked at each other with each other, and then Humphrey smiled Thaddeus.

\- Serge and I just wanted to finish our short film together...And besides, we wanted to at least once again enjoy shooting on your script...I remember every role, every movement, look, facial expressions of the characters, that I played and that you created...With each shot, I began to understand what it means to show all of yourself on camera...you changed us, Mr. Boss, and I appreciate it...

Then Tolstov joined him.

\- Exactly...Without a leader like you, we would never have been who we are...You have always led us to the perfect and the excellent...Each of our joint work, made us better and better...Thank you, Thaddeus...

The man looked from one friend to the other in surprise.

\- You're fucking kidding, right ?

The two friends only smiled wider.

\- Nope!

Thaddeus heaved a sigh at their words, and then came close to their. 

\- Oooh, you forgive us our antics and like it or hug?

But the novice director only raised his eyebrows.

\- No, I just want to go to my apartment and drink all alcohol...

He pushed Serge and Humphrey aside with both hands and walked straight toward the kitchen. Then there was a strange rumbling and unintelligible swearing.

\- Hey, what the hell did you buy? Come here quickly!

The actor and cameraman exchanged glances, then chuckled.

\- Now he's definitely forgiven us...

They said at the same time and laughed at the whole balcony. 

* * *

\- I thought...Crone Liadain had a hearing problem...

Serge said, carefully closing the door behind him. Thaddeus was leaning against the dark railing, holding a can of drink and warming it. He turned head as the cameraman approached with a glass of whiskey.

\- Still, he'd run to Jerry...

The aspiring director joked and took a sip from can. Serge just shrugged, and then spoke.

\- Will you forgive Humphrey and me...we shouldn't have let the situation go just like that...

Thaddeus waved his hand.

\- Don't worry about it...I understand...

Then he added.

\- I by the way and assumed, that perhaps something will happen...

The operator slapped forehead, and then quickly drank the entire contents of glass.

\- My behavior gave us away...Now I'm definitely not going to be hired by the CIA...

Thaddeus stifled a chuckle raising fist to lips.

\- You're a bad actor, you know...

Serge gave weak him a on the head.

\- It's just envy, Thaddeus...Admit it...

Shaminski shook head, but continued to smile. They were silent for a while, enjoying the night life of the street. Then Thaddeus asked the operator.

\- What city are you going to ?

Serge sighed, and then brightened face.

\- Vancouver...While I will take an apartment there with friends...

Then the man addressed him.

\- Have you ever wanted to go back to Poland?...Didn't you tell me yourself that some producers asked you to write a script for them?...In addition, you already worked as an assistant director...Don't make that face! I just asked...Humphrey and I know perfectly well that you will eat sand, but will not leave California...

Thaddeus paused for a moment, then answered calmly.

\- Too much drunk alcohol pretty much affects your language, tovarish... It makes me feel a little sad...

Tolstov only chuckled at his words.

\- All right, all right, you're such a sissy...

Thaddeus took another sip from can, face furrowed, but then, apparently remembering something good, he smiled.

\- Still, I miss my college years...We had a very talented group...

Serge asked curiously.

\- You're from Lodz?

He just nodded.

\- Yes...the place where Polish cinema was born...Now I understand, that perhaps there are no accidents ...

Tolstov nodded, and then said, but not so cheerfully.

\- We leave next Tuesday...

There was no reaction from the aspiring director. On this a man only has sighed.

\- Listen...

He began, laying a heavy hand on shoulder.

\- You send portfolio to Hollywood every month?

Thaddeus opened his eyes wide and then abruptly remove big hand, but finally, squeezing the tin can to a squeak, said.

\- Yes, sending...

Then Shaminski spun around and pointed at himself.

\- They praise what we shot, and then ask to write the initial script for their project! 

He swallowed, and for a moment Serge thought he was going to jump off away down, but, throwing back the tin can, Thaddeus grabbed the railing with both hands, squeezing them.

\- And then they say that your work is not bad, but you should strive for the best, and they choose those, who wrote a fairy tale in two sentences...

Shaminski clenched his fists tighter, then took a deep breath and sighed as released perilles.

\- Okay, that's just my problem with work, I don't want to get anyone else involved into this...

The novice director sat down on the cold floor, burying hands in brown hair. Serge remained standing with the empty glass in hand, and after a pause, he said.

\- Get up, asshole...You will catch cold...

He nudged the toe of his shoe against his side,  
but the man didn't react.

\- WAKE UP !

The operator shouted in his ear, causing Thaddeus to jump as if he were in danger right now.

\- WHY ARE YOU YELLING?! MONSTER!

They both glared harshly at each other, but at that moment the blond head of the girl came out of the door.She looked guiltily at Thaddeus, and then said.

\- Thad, I'm sorry to interrupt, but Frank, Dean, and Sammy had a foam party, and Cary and Judy broke a window...But you just do not worry! We have almost all cleaned up...

She noticed, how Thaddeus changed several times in the face, and then he terrible and unkind of went into the apartment.

\- Hey, Laura!...Can I ask you a question?

She looked at him curiously. 

\- Do you think we can achieve anything in the future?

Laura smiled sweetly, tucking one strand behind ear.

\- I think so...Yes, Serge...If anything we're happy to take you to our theater club...

The man noisy laughed at her words.

\- I'm sorry, but to be in the your ’’rat pack’’ do not allow pride and a weak liver...

He shook forefinger at her, and she waved hand theatrically.

\- Serge, it's ripping me apart the way that you call our team of actors...

Suddenly there was a thud, and then a man's cry and someone's laughter, the girl immediately turned in the direction of the apartment and gasped with horror in eyes.

\- Humphrey!

She quickly ran out the door, and then the operator was left alone on the balcony, holding the same empty glass.

\- Heh...The actors...

He stated and turned toward the night city, where life continued to boil with its quirks and amusements. Serge smiled broadly, more from the pleasure of what he saw, than from the alcohol, he had drunk.

\- Beauty something what! Lepota!


	4. Oppressive thoughts, or expectation of unprecedented and grandiose.

Walking barefoot on the sand, Thaddeus had already walked several miles, but the feeling of fatigue did not even appear in body. Recently, such evening walks have become a kind of habit that entered the life of an aspiring director after his friends left Los Angeles, to improve their professional growth.

**How could he hold a grudge against them for this?**

During these long walks on the beach, he thought of everything that came to mind: art, which gave him a sense of elevation and a sense of magnificent self-expression; cinema, the main hobby and the greatest passion in his life; boring part-time job, which, as he sometimes expressed with annoyance, appeared in his life only for the appearance of a stable and average salary, however not only to pay for the apartment and buy groceries with things, but also after it will received, run, not knowing himself, to the electronics store and, with a sinking heart, ask if the same SLR camera with the best lens, which was ordered a still month ago. 

He also thought of different people: friends, who had left to catch their dream and never let it go; relatives, who lived in Europe and called him back, still not understanding, why he had left; fellow students, who had long since found their personal creative vision and style, and made it a source not only of their own self-expression, but also of income.   
  
But most of all, Thaddeus was concerned about the inevitable and inescapable future, which was slowly, but surely already breathing down his back and causing him to get a thousand goosebumps.

A good career, crowds of fans, critical acclaim, winning prestigious film awards, as well as the feeling, that you have created something incredible- this was always the dream of an aspiring director, but every year his confidence that everything will be just so, faded in him, although Shaminski strictly forbade himself to think so pessimistic.

\- Five mouths of work as an assistant director... Two years to make seven short films... And only one victory... It is not that bad...

But then novice director flinched violently as it dawned on him, that, perhaps, he would remain only the director of short films, having achieved nothing more or created nothing better. Although before he had still a small idea to make a new team for the shooting, but now he closed the issue once and for, it was a good experience in the beginning, but still it's time to move on, especially since the victory at the festival ’’Solar Diva’’ should have played into his hands in this case.

But Thaddeus would not be Thaddeus, if he did not paint a depressing picture of the world in his imagination. He imagined himself in the place of a loser, someone, who could not win a lucky ticket from fate in the lottery and become better... better then he is now. The man reproached himself for those moments, when he could not fully prove to various producers in Hollywood, that he is among many also novice directors to better cope with writing any script, and then film it. But those, like as and were would are happy such a a new employee, but with each time and large and small film studios found different excuses not borrow his to itself, although Shaminski always until the last waited, that they will allow him start to create under roof down their buildings. Sometimes he was invited to participate in small projects, but it was so rare that the novice director did not consider it a little sensible business. Even Serge was talking about it as a mere pastime, on the whole, so - so occupation.

A shiver ran through his body when the words of the two friends rang rapidly through mind, so distinctly that it made him uneasy.

\- Marginal and weirdo...

Naturally, all this was said in jest, and Thaddeus himself often did not hesitate to express, when his friends enraged him, but these nicknames, said not with malice, now acquired a completely different shade of understanding. Having become a weirdo he will become an marginal or still first an marginal, and then an weirdo? But did it really matter what word it all will start with?

From permutation of places of terms the sum does not change... the sum of the dark and terrible future, that Thaddeus had imagined in his mind with the light hand of a great fantasy.

He slapped his cheeks with cold hands to clear mind and drive away thoughts, that were already unpleasant in every aspect. The man continued to go in one direction, only sometimes on his way there were couples in love, or walking their dogs, people.

\- I must to decide something... I must...

He muttered to himself as continued to walk on the sand.

\- Can I try to look for work in other cities...Of course... I have no one there waiting with open arms...And again will have run on these long corridors...

Then he walked a few more, and then said softly.

\- But my dream has always been connected with Hollywood... Exactly the main center of cinematography is located there ...Do I have to go against yourself?... Damn it!

Thaddeus rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily.

\- It seems to be starting to develop into paranoia... Work, Movies, Hollywood, Movies, Work, and then Hollywood again... What kind of an endless circle of the unemployment director...

Shaminski not fun laughed.

\- Or to retrain... Suppose... I could become a lawyer ...

But then he grimaced, imagining himself as something of a non-creative profession.

\- Oh, come on, Thaddeus... Pure idiocy...

After that, the man looked around. In the part of the beach, where he was now there was not a soul, which only pleased him. The sound of waves from the Pacific caught Thaddeus's attention, and he was relieved to be able to focus on something more pleasant.

The night breeze, or shore breeze as it is called, did blow much towards the seawater, as if conveying its chill to it. Shaminski continued to watch the waves carefully coming ashore and then returning. Then Thaddeus frowned, and after again looking around, checking if there's anyone not, quietly began to roll up pants to about knees. He looked earnestly at the sea-water, and then went straight. The right foot promptly felt quite cold water, he froze, getting used to the new sensations for himself, and then, after standing so for a few seconds, Thaddeus stepped into the water with his left foot. With arms slightly away from your body, Shaminski continued their journey farther, stepping gently in the soft sand, became so because of being in the water. At last, he came to a place, where the sea water was up to knees. Pausing, the man dropped hands, and then stared intently ahead, as if what he was most looking for was out there, very far away. Then Thaddeus raised head, peering up into the starry blanket of the night sky. The blue eyes gazed with genuine curiosity at all this, and then, taking in more air and clenching his fists, he shouted at the top of voice into the sky.

\- I WON'T GIVE UP! I WILL DEFINITELY BECOME A GREAT DIRECTOR!

The sound of the Pacific waves was the only response to his unusual antic.

* * *

When Thaddeus arrived at the apartment, he immediately went to the bathroom to wash his dirty feet. After he, so to speak, bathed, in the icy water, the man, returning to the shore, with annoyance felt the sand sticking to feet after each step. With an exasperated sigh, Shaminski went home, walking his long way again. It didn't bother him at all that he walked the streets of the city barefoot, on the contrary, he even liked it very much. Of course, Thaddeus used to walk in his sneakers, but at one point he went without any shoes on the beach, and then he was so impressed, that he left the house in next time, already barefoot, and none of the people said anything to him about it. 

Turning on the warm water, the novice director washed long feet from the sand, and after a little thought, threw off the rest of his things on the floor, and then got into the white bath.

Under the jets of warm water, Shaminski put hands behind head and, closed eyes, relaxed, succumbing to the water element with his whole body. He ran wet hands through his brown hair, then touched chest with the palm of hand,after that slowly moved to shoulder, rubbing it. With his other hand, Thaddeus turned the tap to the maximum, and gradually the water became hotter and hotter, until it looked like boiling water. The bathroom was covered with a little steam, even on the mirror there have appeared drops of water due to the high temperature. The man put hands under the stream of water, and then covered his face with them, gently ran the tips of long fingers over forehead, then touched long eyebrows with his index fingers, and only then the entire surface of palms went over the cheekbones and cheeks, stopping near the mouth and folding fingers together. He smiled as he remembered, how he had been in very cold water only a short time ago, but now he was taking a shower with a hot stream, that warmed entire body. 

\- And what came over me then?...

Thaddeus chuckled under breath, but then, suddenly, he heard someone knocking on the door over the loud noise of the water. 

  
(Knock! Knock! Knock!)

  
The man rolled his eyes and then, after standing under the hot shower for a while, reluctantly turned it off. Removing the curtain, he stepped out of the tub, heading for the hall, wondering, who would even think of knocking on his door at two in the night. The novice director picked up the keys impatiently to put them in the lock, while the knocking on the door continued unabated. At this very moment, it finally dawned on him, that he had come out without even covering himself. Shaminski slapped his forehead loudly, cursing, and then went back into the bathroom, grabbing a long white towel, hanging on a hook, and wrapping it around thighs, and went back to open the door to the uninvited night guest. The knocking continued, getting louder and louder.

After opening the door the more or less good mood immediately disappeared, as if it had never been.The man spoke coldly. 

\- Ahh....Hello...

A slender and aged woman stood in the doorway and looked at Thaddeus with undisguised distaste.

\- Well, I'm not surprised by your external appearance... Came as a complete dunce, and it still is... 

She muttered, to which Thaddeus only with boredom said.

\- You look lovely today, too, Miss Liadain...

The elderly woman furrowed her gray brows, and then said with a sense of displeasure in her voice. 

\- Next time you have a quiet party, don't forget to let me know in advance...

Thaddeus, not without a look of enlightenment on face, asked. 

\- Will you leave at this point? 

The old woman wrinkled brow in displeasure. Her thin, dry lips curved in a stern and unpleasant expression. 

\- No, I'll call the police in advance to put your creative loafers behind bars, and you...

She pointed a bony forefinger at him. 

\- To hell, will get deported back to Belarus!

Thaddeus's face took on an exasperated grimace, and he said through gritted teeth, because he really wanted to close the door in her face faster.

  
\- First of all, I'm from Poland... Second, did you come to me, just to express your indignation about our creative evening? If you have nothing more to say to me, then goodbye...

She snorted, and then, as if thinking a little, took a white envelope from the pocket of her old dressing-gown, and then abruptly poked right into man’s bare chest. Thaddeus almost dropped it, as he caught it in hand. The elderly neighbor gave him a final wave, saying. 

\- Hold it tight... And I'm not talking about the letter...

The man clung to the white towel in an instant, which was already slowly sliding lower and lower. He exhaled, still confused by the message, and frowned at it. On the front side of the envelope and indeed was written the address of the recipient, that is Shaminski, but turning him Thaddeus saw the sender's address.

-...Edward Hit... Sovereign Entertainment...

The door closed softly.


	5. Rain again, or not a step back.

The dreamtime had enveloped the city of the famous pier a few hours ago, at least half of its inhabitants had already seen the fifth or even the tenth dream, but there were those, especially on the street of Promenade and the center of Downtown, who had fun and spent their leisure time in numerous restaurants, shops, cinemas and all possible entertainment. Also, countless solo musicians or different groups, performing all music sorts of repertoire, ranging from Kentucky bluegrass and ending experimental electronic music, created a kind of rhythm for everyone, who happened to come near them, and then, after listening to the music, people with high spirits threw money in a special allotted box or hat, and after rhythmically knocked their foot and sang along to a new chorus.

Nevertheless, at about fifteen minutes past two local time, a loud and unusual exclamation, or rather a shout, was heard in one of the five-story houses. The neighbors got up from their beds in complete incomprehension or opened eyes in a half-asleep state, and, having different feelings about what had awakened them, still tried to recognize the source of the noise. At the same time speaking with a raised voice, so that exactly everyone woke up and participated in this.

\- What happened?!

\- Someone shouted?!

\- Should I call the police?!

\- Loud exploring relationships, shut up!

\- Damn, I have just fallen asleep!

\- I hope this rooster won't be yelling at the whole neighborhood anymore!

\- Someone's definitely in problems...with the head!

\- HEY, QUIET THERE! YOU DON'T LET NORMAL PEOPLE SLEEP!

On the third floor, there was the sound of a lock opening, after that the door handle slid down, and then the door creaked open slowly. First there was a nose with a slight hump, and then the rounded face of a man whose moustache was thick and rounded at the ends. Like a scout, he turned balding head first to the left and then to the right. With a soundless sigh, the man stepped out onto the landing, closing the door behind him.

\- Deal with the troublemakers...

The neighbor spat on the floor, then wrapped himself up a little in a light coat, an outer garment that covered his vest and shorts. He walked a short circle in his slippers, and then began to listen for someone to make a strange exclamation, however, there was complete silence, even the neighbors were silent, not cursing and not wanting in all voice to hit anyone on the head.

\- Aha...Right now I'll go to the showdown...

His wife, who always slept very lightly, was awakened by this shout. When she opened eyes, face expressed complete anger at the situation. Having driven her half-asleep husband out of the apartment , for the sake of a showdown, the woman tried to re-enter the Kingdom of Morpheus, but so far the attempts were in vain, no matter how she struggled. The neighbor muttered to himself swearing and taking pack of cigarette from his coat, then patting the other pocket, the man smiled contentedly, which made his moustache lift up. He taking out a lighter, turning it on, supporting near the edge of the cigarette. After standing for a while to put off the time, since now he wanted more sleep than fighting with his neighbors, and having calmed down under the influence of smoking, he was about to go back to bedroom again, but the man heard a door slam loudly somewhere on the upper floor. Then came the sound of rapid footsteps, which sometimes broke off, as if a man in a hurry jumped over many steps.  
Finally, the neighbor raised head, holding a slightly smokingo cigarette between teeth , and with half-asleep eyes saw a man, who was in a kind of agitated state, hurrying down the stairs as if this was the most important thing right now.

\- Shaminski?...Where are you in such a hurry?

Thaddeus made no reply to his condescending remark, but continued on his way, paying no attention to anything. The man, a little shocked, recoiled from the novice director, afraid that he would now bump him. He even closed eyes, holding teeth tightly and standing like a soldier. The footsteps continued for a few seconds, and then there was a bang - it was the door leading to the street. The neighbor opened left eye, and then right, so-called ,, danger,, did not overtake him.

\- ..Unemployed jerk...

And he threw the half-smoked cigarette on the floor and, with the toe of slipper, walked over it so that was completely extinguished.

\- I thought so...

He stated, rubbing chin, and then thought, lowering frown to the floor.

-I seemed...Or he was without shoes...

* * *

Dark leaden clouds thundered solemnly, creating a March, that seemed, specifically for the one person, who was running through the streets right now. Thaddeus felt the slightly warm asphalt under his bare feet, felt the beginning wind beat him into face and blow hair back.

**What is this spiritualized state? WHAT IS IT?**

This question rang out in head several times clearly, loudly, and terribly beautifully. The heart began to beat faster in broad chest, as Thaddeus saw the arrow sign, indicating, that he was heading in the right direction. The beach was not far away. Some of the passers looked at him in either bewilderment or confusion.

The dark sky again recreated a cacophony of sounds and noises, the cold strong wind did not stop, raising dust in some parts of the street.

**Is this awareness of reality? Or else...**

Shaminski was close to the Pacific could already hear the sound of those waves always raging in bad weather.

**Why is it so good?!**

The thunder roared with renewed force, then gave the main role to small droplets, that began to fall from the sky, overtaking each other. Finally, Thaddeus reached the shore and stopped, catching his breath.

**HERE IT IS!**

He went into the icy water, not feeling the goosebumps, not a tremor of the whole body, not the sticky sweat on forehead mingling with the drops of continuous rain. The only thing that filled body was the power that moved in entire soul, pushing him to all these actions.

At this moment, in some parts of the sky there were glimpses of white lightning, immediately disappearing into the dark.

Being already waist-deep in water, Shamiski cried, raising his hands up and tearing down voice, straight into the stormy sky.

\- YEAH!

Nature, as if understanding his answer, created even more chaos on the street. The palm trees that stood near the shore swayed in different directions, it seemed that now they will bend and they will be torn apart asunder. The coastal sand rose in the air, spinning as if in a mad centrifuge. Thaddeus hitted the water with hands as the waves slapped his chest, and he was already soaked to the skin, though it didn't bother him at all. The loud voice came again.

\- I WON'T MISS THIS CHANCE! MY FANTASIES, IDEAS, DREAMS-ALL THIS WILL BECOME A REALITY!

Again the sounds of thunder were heard, creating a complete mess, but it all looked so harmonious that you could not even catch something terrible in it, on the contrary, it was mind blowing, but all each performance must have its own denouement and, after alternating rages and confusion, finally, right among the dark clouds appeared a huge zigzag broad lightning. Thaddeus widened his eyes in shock at the sight, and then, with uncertain steps, without turning, walked back. However, after only a short distance, Shaminski, unable to keep his balance, fell into the sea water, continuing to look at the place where the electric discharge had just been. After a few seconds of silence, he took the water in hands and splashed it on face, saying in a calm tone, while crying and smiling.

\- I understood...I realized...

Suddenly, he felt the fabric of his jacket dig into throat. Without understanding anything, he tried to stop the one, who was pulling him out of the water, but hands did not obey Thaddeus, the tremor of fingers after all the experience, did not leave him. At last the man was brought to feet, though at any moment he might fall again.

\- What are you doing, mister?

Stern look of the policeman was aimed directly at Shaminski, but he didn't answer, still shocked by what saw. Thaddeus breathing convulsively and stared with blue eyes from the black clouds to the stingy in feelings man of uniform.

\- So this is how they open the bathing season in Santa Monica...

He loosened grip, opening fingers on the wet fabrics and letting go, but Thaddeus was taken aback by the dizziness, he tried to focus eyes on the shore, but it seemed to move away from the man further and further, and then, after a few limp steps, Shaminski again fell into the sea water directly.

The policeman stared at it without enthusiasm, and then easily grabbed Thaddeus's arm, pulling him back to the surface. The novice director immediately began to cough, sea water felt in his mouth, giving bitterness. Soon towards them another person ran up, the girl in the same police uniform as the man. The rain was slowly beginning to ease.

\- Drunk or homeless?

But the policeman only shook his head, furtively glancing at the novice director.

\- We'll sort out at the police station...Take it up from the other side...

Walking and supporting to the right Thaddeus, while the man was already holding him on the other side, they both headed for a police car parked very close by. Shaminski tried to clarify the situation to them, but the only thing that he could only make slurred speech. The old excitement was gone, giving way to inhibition, to everything else unpleasant pulled in the stomach and the only thing that Thaddeus thought, after the past euphoria, how would he not have to pay a large fine, after he vomits in a police car.

* * *

The axial fan, located on a small dresser, created some air in the stuffy room, twirling its main part every seven seconds with a break of two. The dark-skinned man, who was in this place was sitting at his desk, but there was not an ounce of clutter on it: the far right corner of the documents that lie for signature, the lower left special folders for accounting, the other right stationery, as well as a heavy seal that occupies the main place, and on the left a few photos. The police officer filled out the papers without haste, carefully writing each symbol in beautiful handwriting, but he stopped at about half of them, and then looked good-naturedly at the man opposite.

\- Would you like some coffee?

Thaddeus, sitting on a chair and wrapped in two woolen blankets, nodded without speaking. The blue eyes only stared straight at the policeman, wary and suspicious.

\- You don't mind Americano? Unfortunately, this is the only thing I can offer you...

Shaminski nodded again, saying nothing and continuing to watch him. The man sighed and then went out of the table, but when he had already grabbed the handle, looked back, and only then went to the local cafeteria.

The aspiring director put his hands together, bringing them to mouth, and then blew warm air over them to warm them. The pallor on the long fingers was gradually disappearing, but in a fef minutes the door opened loudly and the same officer entered the room with a stand for two tall plastic cups.

\- Honestly, I thought you'd run away at the first opportunity...

He handed him one cup, and then sat down at the original seat, beginning to drink from own. Thaddeus was in no hurry to empty drink, at first held it a little in hands, and then, after a few sips, he said hoarsely.

\- I was too happy with one piece of news, what even lose control of myself...

The policeman nodded understandingly.

\- Sometimes, but still this is not a reason to expose yourself to such danger...

Shaminski lowered his gaze and then smiled at the corners of mouth, he looked at him again, but now eyes were looked sharp and clear.

\- I felt lost, as if I were walking on a path that had no end in sight...I had the most frightening thoughts in my head...But when I received a letter from a Hollywood film Studio about an invitation for an interview...I...I felt it...

Thaddeus pointed to the own heart, holding a still-warm cup of Americano in his other hand.

\- How the elated feeling took hold of me...Every organ, every muscle, every part of me gave way to this delight...

He quickly drank all coffee, burning tongue and throat, and then putting the already empty cup on the table, stood up, throwing off two blankets.

\- I attracted, attract and will attract any person with my creativity!...I will share with them all the emotions, ideas and most importantly show how much art is able to captivate, even the most snobbish connoisseurs of cinema!

The dark-skinned man watched his monologue in a dazed way, and then, also putting the half-finished coffee on the table and coughing, paused for a moment, he looked very quickly at the wall where the clock hung, and then said calmly.

\- Your acting skills are top notch, sir...And I think...You should not be so worried about the interview...In addition...

He got up and walked around his desk to the door. Thaddeus watched him closely, then looked at blankly as the officer opened it and pointed down a long corridor.

\- Hollywood has always needed good actors, especially since your eyes are burning with fire, which means you are a passionate person, in a good sense of the word...

Thaddeus walked cautiously to the open door, then chuckled to the policeman.

\- Are you just letting me go? And the fine? And the moral? Especially since I've ready come up with a speech of remorse for what I've done...

The man smiled at his words.

\- First, in about three minutes it will be exactly five o'clock in the morning, and your health, judging by the way the two warm blankets were thrown away with a sense of arrogance, is getting better every minute, especially since I still have a whole pile of papers and additiona cases...In the second place, let's say you got away with it because you didn't do anything to be scolded for it...

Shaminski suspiciously narrowed eyes, the officer changed a straight face on a very stern expression.

\- However, this is the first and last warning...I hope not to catch you in any more ditches, rivers, or fountains...Do you understand?

The man grinned at words, then saluted, raising his hand to head. The police officer rolled eyes. However, after walking a few steps from the office, Thaddeus turned around and proudly saying.

\- And I'm not an actor, for your information...I'm a director - Thaddeus Isaac Shaminski...Try to remember that name...

And he waved to him, as continued on way. The policeman just shook head at all this.

\- And that everyone is so obsessed with this movie career...

The tall figure of Shaminski disappeared around the bend, but the officer listened for a few more seconds to the distant footsteps, and then, chuckling to himself, said.

\- Although it's the most appropriate kind of activity for a guy like him...

The man roamed calmly through office, but his head was full of happy thoughts.

\- Shaminski...Ha!

By this time, as he was leaving the police station, Thaddeus, who had already gathered enough strength, pushed the door open with bare foot, and then mechanically closed eyes, after which he raised right hand to face.

The rays of a bright California morning found him at the liberty.


	6. Always in a hurry, or the explanation of complex thoughts in simple language. ( Part one )

The end of spring has always been synonymous with a warm, but not too hot sun in the ’’Golden State’’.

People, with the usual rhythm for them, hurried about their business, negotiations, conferences, in general, on any types of meetings and what was discussed at them on this working day. That's why many types of ground transportation worked almost without interruption, running all over Santa Monica and ready to go even beyond its borders, trying to make as much revenue as possible, at the expense of those who could not go on an important matter on foot, even if they switched to a rapid run, like a participant in the Olympic games.

The blue body of the bus, which gone to the iron structure of the bus stop, stood out favorably among the light and dark colors of buildings of different heights and the green foliage of plants, that love the warm season. The crowd, consisting of a group of seven people, immediately took a few steps forward, preparing to enter public transport after the mechanical door opens in front of them.

The bus, whose number ’’102’’ was highlighted by lights on the front window in the right corner, stopped, but it didn't make a very loud sound of tires. A few people got out of it, stepping onto the sidewalk, while the rest of them took turns getting into transport, firstly paying through a special machine with either a one-dollar bill or a travel card.

When the last passenger went inside, the door closed with a distinctive sound, the driver adjusted his cap on his head, changed the transmission, which caused transport to give in forward, after all this, he moved his black shoe on the pedal, giving in to the gas and preparing to leave for the next destination.

\- OH, FUCK! NO! NO! NO!

A man in a strict black suit tried to maneuver between passers and at the same time tried not to slow down his speed on the way to the main goal.

\- Ahhh! Damn it!

He was managed to quickly bypass a group of children, while creating even more hype with his behavior.

\- STOP!

The bus had already pulled away from the stop, picking up speed with each passing meter. Thaddeus, with a grimace of horror on face, continued rapid pursuit of the transport.

\- Fuck! Stop!

He had already passed the bus stop, startling several tourists who were photographing local landscape. Then, with a dirty curse at the driver, he grabbed mouth the handle of the business briefcase, that had been originally held tightly in his hand, and then, gathering all strength, accelerated, without taking eyes off the blue body of the bus.

\- Mom! Mom! Look!

The boy watched with undisguised delight through the side window, as the man almost caught up with public transport, which was not yet going at full speed. The woman sighed, as she turned the page of a fashion magazine, then said skeptically.

\- Yes, Dan...Just wonderful...

The kid furrowed his childish brows, and then, when Shaminski, still holding the briefcase in mouth, turned eyes to the side, Dan waved a quick hand to him, and, to his great happiness, Thaddeus also waved back.

\- Mom! He waved at me!

Jumping on his dark blue seat, the boy said. The woman quietly rolled eyes, and then continued her reading, however considering, why is her son such a dreamer. At the same time, the driver, whistling a familiar tune for himself, casually looked to the right, when saw, how Thaddeus gives him crazy signs with his hands, urging him to pay attention to himself.

\- Uh!?

The only thing the stunned driver managed to say before slamming on the brake, causing a wave of indignation from all the passengers. The door of public transport opened and Shaminski, almost crashing into a pole in front, climbed into the bus in one jump , and then, trying to restore the supply of oxygen by frequent breathing, forced out a hoarse gratitude. The driver, who had at first been taken aback by the stranger's, now looked at him sternly, but the words of rudeness and discontent were not uttered him. Thaddeus quickly paid with a dollar bill and went inside, holding a business briefcase with one hand while the other touched his chest, which rose and fell with because of the adrenaline after a run. The novice director plopped down in an empty seat, and then, when the transport started, said wearily, but with satisfaction.

\- Great...

Shaminski rested forehead against the back of the seat in front of him, breathing heavily and trying to calm the pounding of heart in chest. The only bus, that the one that suited him for the trip, went only a few times a day, being late for it at this time, the man would had to wait a few more hours, which did not suit him under any pretext. He couldn't miss his chance just, because he missed bus.

\- Thaddeus! Gather your thoughts...

Finally, he straightened up proudly, straightened his jacket, and then turned head toward the view of already such a native town appeared before his blue eyes. After that all ostentatious earnestness was instantly lost, when the man smiled at the corners of mouth, and then leaned forehead against the sun-warmed window and said in a whisper.

\- Please... Let everything be alright...

He gripped the sides of the dark brown business briefcase in his lap and then closed eyelids with a sigh, still touching forehead to the bus window.

The big white letters on the green hills with the words ’’Hollywood’’ seemed already less distant to him.

* * *

\- Wow...

Two majestic arches with intricate geometric iron patterns on the inner vault, obviously had a favorable impression on anyone who inadvertently stopped their eyes on a tempting architectural solution. Decor in the form of several green bushes at the very beginning, and then farther a rows of tall palm trees, which most likely surpassed the height of many sand colored buildings belonging to the one complex. All that resembled a distant exotic oasis, especially since the hot and arid climate contributed to this perception of the world. In General, monotonuos colors covered a large part of the mostly similar at each other buildings, only the roof had a silver or a light shade of red. Somewhere in the distance, the top of a water tower was also visible, but Thaddeus was more attractive to scrutinize the image on it. A man and a woman, dressed in the style of a good old Western, each held two pistols of a rather unusual cosmic appearance, as if they had come from another universe. Anyhow, Shaminski chuckled and soon was no longer paying attention to the couple, once again reverting at the arches.

\- So that's what you look like on the outside...

Right in the middle of the place where the sand coloured arches joined into one, there was a circle, the free space of which was occupied by the ornate two capital letters ’’S’’ and ’’E’’. Just below it was the full title, which hid the abbreviation from above behind its specific patterns.

\- Sovereign Entertainment...

The man, standing directly opposite the entrance to the television and film prodoction studio, smiled with satisfaction, holding the invitation letter in one hand, while the other held handle of the business briefcase firmly.

\- Someone can give me a sign, that I'm not sleeping...

A loud car horn made poor Shaminski jump in place, and then turn his head back in complete fright. The white pickup truck, with a small wooden structure protruding from the trunk, repeated the horn again, only more violently.

\- What are you staring at?! Get off the road!

Thaddeus bounce back to the right, opening the way for the car, and as it moved off to continue its journey, the driver could be heard grumbling.

\- Where to find peace from these annoying tourists?!

The barrier shot up, and then, as the pickup passed it , there were horns, but they sounded more friendly than the ones he had bestowed Thaddeus. At this time, after calming his nerves a little, Shaminski exhaled, and a firm step went straight to the special booth, where the guard was currently located.

\- Excuse me...

The man, reading the text very closely, lowered the magazine a little, showing only his eyes. He looked around at the smiling Thaddeus with undisguised boredom, and then said.

\- I'm listening...

The man straightened, spreading his shoulders wide.

\- Where is Mr. Edward Hit's office?

At the guard's frowning brows, Thaddeus handed a letter through the small window. He was waiting and impatient for when he was told coordinates. However guarding employe ’’Sovereign’’ was not in a hurry in this matter. First, he put the magazine on the table, then took the letter in both hands, reading it, only occasionally glancing at Thaddeus, whose facial muscles were already aching from the long smile. Finally, the guard gave it to Shaminski, saying.

\- Well... Go straight and then turn left...

He began to show Thaddeus his way with hand, changing directions with the palm. The man listened very carefully at first, trying to remember everything thoroughly, but in the end, when the guard finished, Shaminski only calmly thanked him, and then, after walking only a few meters, stopped, and then shouted to the man in the booth, who already wanted to start reading again.

\- Do I have to turn right, yes ?

* * *

The general producer's desk was never free. Several high stacks of important papers, volumetric folders with a lot of information, serious documents, business cards of advertising companies and other media, signed contracts and schedules with a schedule for several months in advance, as well as a large amount of literature with topics in the direction of management and marketing- and all this paper material, which, most likely, should have been in a state of some kind of mess, on the contrary, was in a certain coherence with each other, as if even small piece of paper, having a small value, knew its place on the wide oak table.

The list, which was located right in the middle, unlike the rest of the paperwork, located the edges, now occupied the central attention of the man sitting in the black leather chair. There were already fine, thread-like wrinkles on the high forehead, which often arisen during heavy thoughts. Dark-blue eyes, each time looking at the list of approximate TV candidates, get distracted and tried to find something more interesting, just to avoid encountering these names and characteristics again.

Dissatisfaction slowly spread through the body, as well as bewilderment and anger to boot.

The man pull away from the table, rubbing eyes with long fingers, and then, leaning his back on the soft surface, sighed vexedly into the silence of the office.

What should he do with all this ?

The question heavy burden pressed on his shoulders, but the General producer stood it stoically. He is not a weakling and in his career, there were problems and worse, than choosing a project to further promotion. However, what choice could there be at all when there simply wasn't one.

He could not imagine that someone them, which were written on a piece of paper and contain such sickly-poor scenarios, had a future.

It was all too useless and bad.

The man straightened up, returning to his normal position, only changing the pose of his arms, crossing them over his chest. His gaze returned reluctantly to the list. Most likely, the ideological and artistic value was thrown out by them at the very beginning of the work (probably as well as the brains), which means, that even a little-known channel will only grin at new studio project, choosing more successful in all areas, and especially in the money, other TV show.

\- Enough! I need a break...

The general producer put that one list of paper down on a stack of folders, then slapped hands on the table and sighed heavily, closing eyes. This question has been going on for a whole several days and, to be honest, he is so fed up with it all, every time explain what he wants from these stupid people, that it all began to turn into a mild migraine.

\- Fifteen screenwriters, fifteen screenwriters...

Through his teeth said, and then opened eyes. Him need a break and this is very urgent.

\- So...

He opened a small drawer under the table, and then, narrowing eyes, took out a stack of ordinary playing cards. Thin lips finally formed a smile on the serious and important face.  
The thumbs pressed on the deck of cards while the others held it firmly at the sides. After that, the right hand took all the cards, the other fingernail went over the wide part, making a characteristic rasp. The man quickly sorted through, and then put them on the table. Taking two cards from the deck, he held each one in one of his hands, quite carefully, attached the upper parts to each other, and then left in this position on a straight surface. In five minutes, the three-level house of cards was ready, while several unused cards lying nearby. The man looked at his creation with a share of skeptics, the migraine did not pass, only intensified in the temples, pulsating with a break of three seconds. The shoddy list caught his eye again, and a nervous chuckle broke the silence of the office.

\- Too long to think in this situation will not lead to anything good...

Dark blue eyes stared at the castle that had been created. The man grunted, then flipped the lower card away the middle with a snap of his fingers, and the others, as if on cue, also began to fall in mess.

\- Probably... About the same thing will happen to my career, if I do not bring a new interesting TV show... In my case, at least a new one...

The sudden knock on the door did not take him by surprise, but his memory immediately began to work, trying to guess who is standing in front of the office door.

\- Come in!

There was a slight creak, and then the door gilded open. The young man was holding on to the gilded handle, and, judging by the way, he was breathing heavily, it was likely that he was asked not go to him, but to run, as if afraid of not having time to tell the news, perhaps even the most trifling.

\- Did something happen?

On this guy only negatively shook his head, by continuing restore breath.

\- Sir... Mr. Hit said to remind you that there will be an interview in his office in hour... He really wants you to attend it...

The man looked at the collapsed house of cards with annoyance, and then nodded to the man in the doorway.

\- Okay, thanks, you can go...

The door slammed again, and when it became more difficult to recognize footsteps by ear, the general producer collected all the mess of playing cards into a perfect stack, which immediately went back to the drawer.

\- As far as I remember, old buddy told me about a director from ’’Solar Diva’’...

He rose from comfortable chair, and then, circling desk, made for the door with a calm step.

\- I hope it doesn't take long... But on the one hand, this is much better than searching for a tiny piece of gold in the swamp mud...

The serious expression returned to his thin, slightly tanned face. The headache was a little less.


	7. Always in a hurry, or the explanation of complex thoughts in simple language. ( Part two )

\- Sir! Sir! Sir!

The general producer muttered something wearily, but footsteps on the gray tiles of long corridor did not stop, neither for him nor for the guy who was calling him. In the future, the man only turned his head to subordinate, saying.

\- Yes, Yes, I'm going to Mr. Hit... You don't need to remind me of that in five minutes...

But nevertheless the guy caught up with him, and then, with short pauses and ragged breaths, spoke.

\- Sir, my apologize... That I am talking about it too late... Remember how this morning you asked me... To go the editing room, where engage the TV series ’’Johan's Legion’’... The technical producer... And director want you to check something out... More precisely, they have some problems...

The man rubbed the bridge of nose.

\- This is something serious?

But the guy just shrugged.

\- Guess, I really need to take my migraine pills...

The subordinate refined timidly with his boss.

\- I can arrange a bed for you in the medical room for a little rest... Or I should call a doctor to your office? No, wait, you must attend the interview... And we must not forget about ’’Legion’’... Oh, I need to look at your work schedule again!

The man stopped abruptly, and then, turning to the guy with a frown that made dark blue eyes look even sinister, said sternly.

\- Mr. Hugo Sparrow, I just need, you to bring me two headache pills and a glass of water... I'll be waiting for you in editing room...

Then, turning hastily, the general producer hurried on his way, leaving poor Hugo with new assignment.

\- ’’Johan's Legion’’... I can't believe that they are shooting the last season of this, not afraid to say, marvelous creation and one of the best TV series ’’Sovereign’’... But I must admit, that we should move on, which is why but we need in splendid successors, which, unfortunately, due to the degradation of some people's creative thinking, will be quite difficult to find... Okay... What about time? 

However, when the man glanced at wristwatch for verification, he only raised eyebrows a little, and then, fixing his gaze ahead, went to the opposite place from Edward Hit's office.

\- I think thirty minutes will be enough...   
Although... Anything can happen...

There was no further his distraction on the way.

* * *

It was both startling and unusual.

For a full thirty seconds, the general producer, along with two men on either side of him, had been watching a stranger in the editing room. The workers, that is, the installation team, to the general indignation of the man, did not even pay attention to the strange man, who was watching with undisguised curiosity what was happening on the central monitor, which right now showed footage of a full-scale battle.

The man gently reached out long fingers to the handle, and then, closing the door quietly, stoped, then whirled and swept an indignant glance first Cletis Duke, the director, who's a bit of a lighthearted look was aimed at a close a door, and then Harry Suivi, technical producer, whose a bit of a bored face exasperated him more and more. Then, taking a deep breath through a sharp nose that made his nostrils widen threateningly, and exhaling through firmly clenched teeth, the general producer said.

\- What...Fuck...Is...This?

Cletis smiled amiably at the man opposite, who was ready to turn into a monster at any moment.

\- Sir, you look like, if I don't answer you, you're going to make me go through all the difficult tests, that were in the my TV series...

The general producer rolled eyes, then quipped.

\- What an extraordinary intuition, Mr. Duke! Or, as I understand it, this cretin is the misunderstanding there is bothering you?

The technical producer, who had been silent all this time, spoke in rough bass voice.

\- This is not the problem we wanted to show you, sir... But... If you want, I can get this idiot kick out of here in five minutes...

He snapped knuckles loudly, general producer let out an exhausted sigh, then rubbed temples with index and middle fingers.

\- I don't need you to break his neck, Mr.   
Suivi...Especially since I know how you ’’in a quiet environment’’ entered into a new contract for expensive equipment rental when Mr. Duke began shooting the last season...

Harry closed eyes and shook head.

\- It was really lousy...But in my defense, I can say that they wanted to infcrease the price three times, even though we have been working with this company for seven years ...

Cletis noticed with interest.

\- Oh... But I can't remember any rumors related to that deal... So you did send someone to the hospital with a broken leg, Harry?

Mr. Suivi opened his eyes and looked reproachfully at the smiling director.

\- I had to talk to them long and hard... And yes, I put a little pressure on them... Because some TV director due to of their fucking principles can not shoot with normal video cameras... And one day, when we had to take with cameras with not such a high dynamic range, this psycho, broke them! He broke the fucking cameras with a hammer!

Mr. Duke only chuckled at the technical producer's words.

\- Did you beat them up or not?

The man, who had been watching then, finally, put in a words of exasperation.

\- I don't have time to listen to your memories of those times... Where the Hell does Hugo go?!

The migraine, as always, came back at the wrong time.

\- Well... I can handle it myself... I hope you won't cut each other's throats, while I'm dealing with a stranger?

The director reassured him.

\- It's going to be okay, boss! And if something goes wrong, then I just unleashed on him our extortioner of great video camers. 

Suivi just rolled eyes.

* * *

\- I hope... Don't have to use the force... Of a technical producer...

The tall man spoke in a whisper, closing the dark door as quietly as possible, while his determined gaze was directed at the unknown man's back.

Who is he? What does he want? And most importantly, is he dangerous? Naturally, the general producer tried to think about this from a more optimistic side, but not better to be on guard than in holy carelessness, which will then lead to a not very good result?

Rolling eyes, the man slowly began to approach the stranger and when stopped, slightly turned head to the side, while frowning and pulling hands behind back.

To his serious gaze, he saw a young man in a suit who looked a little over twenty-five, with fair skin, brown hair, and bright blue eyes that, oddly, seemed to absorb everything they saw in front of them. Large and small sets, amazing camerawork, well-coordinated play of actors-all this fascinated the young man, as if something unimaginable. From the keen eye of the general producer not disappeared and how the changing face of this strange guy, here he frown long eyebrows, forming a not too noticeable wrinkles on his forehead, eyes slightly narrowed, apparently, trying to see everything to the smallest detail, lips in concentration did not show a smile or other curve, then, when the scene changed again, his face transformed, dropping slightly large jaw, the lips opened, giving the astonishment of his master, eyelids widened, which causes the eyebrows rise to a high forehead, the right side of which was covered with several strands of hair.

Soon general producer returned head to its normal position, and then, after watching the main character rescue injured comrade on the screen, clarified with a grin.

\- Don't you think this scene is too long?

Without even averting his gaze and continuing to watch, the guy said.

\- No way!... Director on the contrary wants to emphasize all the chaos of the situation, after what they had to do through... This is noticeable even to the naked eye!... And in addition...

It was just fun to watch the people in the editing room turned slowly around in their chairs, watching with shock and listening to the speech of the person they saw for the first time. The general producer lifted eyebrows in surprise, listening to quite correct notes. However, the stranger did not immediately notice that he had attracted increased attention to his person, and so, when he was about to touch on other good aspects of the scene, while making a lot of gestures, he suddenly stopped and fell silent, and then slowly looked at the faces of women and men who were gazing at him with disbelief.

\- Listen, a connoisseur of other people's director's ideas...

Horace Mons, the chief editor, whose slightly sarcastic gaze was directed at the abashed guy opposite, said with a slight threat in his voice, while the other editors quickly whispered something to each other.

\- If you want to talk about great ideas, please, come out... I have my hands full, and if I don't finish this shit in time, you know I remembered your face, philosopher!... Oh! Mr. Varden, glad to see you! You know, we have something that requires your intervention...

The general producer rubbed the bridge of his nose, and then, returning to serene face, he answered.

\- It's nice to see you in a good mood , Mr. Mons... I really want to deal with your problem right now... But...

He put hand on the stranger's shoulder, what made him flinch, and, lifting the corners of his thin lips a little, continued in a pleasant voice.

\- I'm about to start my interview with this all-knowing gentleman... So could it wait until tomorrow in the morning?

Horace only raised a dark-skinned hand, folding his index and thumb in the shape of ’’OK’’.

\- Wondrously... Don't worry I'll talk to Cletis and Harry... So let's go... Mr. Hit is a very patient man, but I hate to keep anyone waiting...

With a firm look at everyone present and a nod to them, the general producer began to leave the editing room, striding firmly to the exit, but as soon as he touched the door handle, the man heard an adressed.

\- Sir... I owe you my apologies... I shouldn't have come in here... Simply... I'm willing to pay a fine if necessary...

Mr. Horace threw up hands, shouting.

\- Fine!? Heck! Cody, you heard that! Kid, I was just joking!

His assistant just glanced at the him for a moment.

\- You surprise me more and more, Mr...

The stranger finally spoke name.

\- Thaddeus...Thaddeus Isaac Shaminski...

The general producer turned slowly to the novice director. Thaddeus tried not to bustle, but his hands were very shaking.

\- Mr. Shaminski, very nice... I had deeply hoped to meet you in a different setting...

He looked questioningly at the editors, who immediately turned faces to the screens, only their chief remained motionless, but with a broad smile on his face.

This situation really seemed to him funny.

\- I want to say, that was pleased to hear from your lips an excellent knowledge of cinema nuances and how you noticed the idea of Cletis Duke... But at the same time, you entered the room of post-production without any permission, just because you saw a beautiful picture. Although, I will not conceal that the behavior of some busy people also cause me questions... 

Mons's smile changed to one of bewilderment. His assistants only became more focused on their work.

\- In my opinion, it is indecent behavior, Mr. Shaminski... You are a future director or whoever you are, who must have also self-discipline in addition to creative qualities... I hope, don't have to hold your hand like a little three-year-old, who doesn't understand the words ’’don't run away’’? 

Thaddeus stared at him with perplexity, and when he was about to utter words, that he thought might improve his image a little, he was immediately interrupted by the cold voice of the general producer.

\- Wait!... I did not give you permission to voice opposite answer my point of view...

Quiet, hand-held chuckles were heard in the editing room. Varden paid attention to this, however, continued his firm speech.

\- Why didn't you go straight to Mr. Hit's office? And I want to believe that the editing room was your only stop? Or also did you look in women's dressing rooms?

Mr. Mons burst out laughing, putting fist to mouth. The novice director, reddened by remarks, tried to defend himself one last time.

\- I don't -...

But this attempt was unsuccessful.

\- ’’Sovereign’’... Not a circus or bazaar, Mr. Shaminski...Your frivolus behavior does not give you points, but on the contrary... You haven't even been to an interview yet but act like a boss of a TV/film studio, going into different rooms during the work process... I want to believe that you filming better, than you behave...

Varden said, and then turned around, indicate the conversation over. Shaminski dejected this not good acquaintance with the general producer, is already regretted coming here. Why the hell did he come in through the half-open door? Lost on the way? Curiosity? Or rather something on the level of intuition? But Thaddeus knew only one thing: either he was going to have the worst interview of his life, or...

\- Hey! What are you doing!?

Varden glowered at the back of director Duke, who was teasing Hugo with ill-concealed pleasure.  
  
\- Admit It, Sparrow... You are a natural snob!

The Hugo waved a glass of cold water indignantly, but still tried not to spill a drop, and then making a face with the most offended expression, showing snow-white teeth.

\- Shut up! Fucking Brat!

The general producer frowned more and more, until suddenly Cletis, who could intuitively predict bad movements in his direction, jumped to the left. Sparrow, whose patience was already at the point, where people begin to feel a great desire to throw something at the opponent, with all his strength splashed, as he assumed, on the restless director of water, but hit the wrong one.

\- Lord...

The man with his eyes closed stood there, not making a sound, still holding the poor door handle, like gripping it as if he wanted to tear it to hell. Droplets of water trickled down faced to chin, then fell softly to the floor or onto his black patent-leather shoes.

Meanwhile, Shaminski tilted head slightly, looking at the man carefully, and then, barely suppressing a victorious grin, asked, but praying to himself not to laugh out loud.

\- Sir... Maybe we should hurry... I hate to keep anyone waiting...

The General producer did not immediately respond to him, at first he took a few seconds to get used to the increasing in double headache, then made a note to kill first Cletis, and then Hugo, and only after that he opened slightly reddened eyes, and then turned head in the direction of Thaddeus. The idea of killing this guy negated everything else.

\- Follow me...

Varden, not even glancing at the confused subordinates, walked rapidly down the corridor, not caring whether uspevaet him Shaminski. Taking a gray checkered handkerchief from his jacket pocket, the general producer removed the excess moisture in an instant. Thaddeus walked quickly beside him, holding his briefcase full of documents and other important papers.

However, the novice director turned his head back, peering curiously at a local workers of ’’Sovereign’’. For a few seconds, his blue eyes met the attentive expression of Cletis Duke, who then waved good-naturedly at him. Shaminski also responded with a quick wave of his hand, and then, when he noticed the unpleasant look in Varden's personal assistant's eyes, he immediately turned away, not bothering to spoil his mood with another unpleasant moment.

\- Mr. Varden...

A tall Suivi passed right in their path, but only one withering glance from the man was enough to keep the technical producer from not more saying a word in his direction.

\- I just for a second went to the fucking crapper... What the fuck have you both done here?

Heard Shaminski, while continued to go in one bedrom pace with the general producer.

Naturally, there was no conversation on the way to Hit’s office.

* * *

\- So...The editing room?

The man said it so gently, as if he were talking about distant memories of his childhood. In General, Shaminski liked Edward Hit, an associate producer, with a constantly bright smile on old face, lively blue eyes and a pleasant timbre of voice.

\- Yes... That’s right...

The novice director honestly tried not to give away his lousy mood in front of him, but it was quite difficult to concetrate when next to the Hit sat a man who showed with all his appearance that he, quite frankly, did not care about interview.

Ernest Varden was engaged in almost all. Here he looks at nails, then contemplates at the dial of his expensive watch for a long time, then straightens jacket, as well as many other things and all these actions under the story of Thaddeus about his little ’’adventure’’, only sometimes interrupted by constant short questions from Edward to the him.

\- Mr. Hit, did we come here to discuss the story of Mr. Shaminski? Or are we here for something else?

In the end, the general producer broke down after another question from his colleague. The white-haired man's eyes bulged at this, and his black brows lifted. This grimace reminded Thaddeus of comedians, who like to perform for a bored audience.

\- Are you in a hurry, Mr. Varden? Will your wife be furious, if you come home a little later?

The man shifted his gaze to the calm associate producer, then leaned toward him, speaking with a slight threat, although his facial expression was almost motionless. In Shaminski's eyes, producer Hit had gone from a normal good guy to an splendid person in just a few sentences.

\- I'm just a little worried that you're throwing my time away... Well, you know, I'm a busy man, Mr. Hit... With all my heart, I hate it, when people say something, but not important things...

Edward, after blinking several times at first, soon tapped him impatiently on the shoulder.

\- In my desk, the lowest drawer, there is a small first aid kit... Take a painkiller, my friend...

The man snorted, then got up quickly and went to desk. Hit continued, still looking at Thaddeus with interest.

\- Okay, did you bring your portfolio?

Shaminski nodded to him, as took papers from his business briefcase, but the producer suddenly raised hand, indicating that Thaddeus should stop.

\- No, no, not now... And I must warn you that I want to talk to you about a lot of things... However, let me tell you everything in order... Don‘t worry, your papers will come in handy...

The novice director nodded cautiously, and Edward rubbed hands together in anticipation.

\- So...What do you want me to do for you?

Meanwhile, taking a glass of water with him, Ernest returned to his seat. He quickly popped a pill into his mouth and downed the entire contents of the glass in one gulp, then carefully placed it on a hard surface and spoke in an official tone.

\- Did I miss anything?

Edward rolled his eyes with a grin.

\- You're just in time, sir!... So, Mr. Shaminski, when I was at the festival ’’Solar Diva’’, I have to admit, many of the short films I found boring, insipid...Generally so-so...however, your work has made me, let's say, change a little my outlook... Don‘t smile like that, it's true! Well, I won't beat around the bush, I mean...

He felt his neighbor put a hand on shoulder, and then Varden looked at Thaddeus appraisingly and, after some thought of own, sighed wearily, finally saying.

\- In short... Mr. Shaminski, have you had any experience in shooting TV shows?... Man, what's the hell is wrong with you?!

Ernest and Edward stared in surprise at the novice director, whose more or less calm face began to change into a strange and incomprehensible expression. Shaminski abruptly rose from his chair. Wild eyes didn't know what to focus on. The man clutched at his unruly hair as if in a psychotic state, adding to crazy image by continuously tugging right lower eyelid.

\- TV SHOW?!

Varden's jaw seemed about to drop at any moment, and the man turned to the another producer with a question in eyes, but he only smiled good-naturedly.

\- I like fucking creative people... Let’s cooperate, Mr. Shaminski!

The General producer just slapped forehead.


	8. The unpredictability of the creative soul, or the mysterious interlocutor of the silent Mi-Ka-Ehl...

Hollywood, when a hot day obediently gave way to a cool evening, began to resemble a famous, but a little capricious actress, who always knew, that to attract the attention of millions of people's eyes, you just need to wear the brightest dress for this fun night.

’’And then no one can get away from your brilliance!’’ , she will say in a sweet, high-pitched voice, then gently blow a kiss.

  
The famous area of Los Angeles and the truth was ’’dressed’’ in the bright lights of all kinds of Windows, signs, lanterns, sparing neither electricity, nor the eyes of newly arrived tourists, who, by the way, did not like when someone touched their personal space.

\- Hey! 

The girl rubbed bruised shoulder, until the tall man who pushed her didn't even give her an apologetic look.

\- The first day, and already met with boor...

However, she did not continue to sort things out and, only checking the stranger's back with a dissatisfied look for the last time, hurried away from the place, trying to have time to see as many sights as possible. In her haste and a little anger, she didn't even notice, what an unusual state the person, who pushed her was in, although perhaps if the tourist had caught something strange in his eyes, it would probably have been too late. The man's back flashed for the last time in the new crowd of foreign tourists, and then a tall figure in a business suit quickly disappeared, passing a pedestrian crossing and leaving in a direction only known to his.

  
**(** **Have you ever made a TV show?)**

**TV SHOW TV SHOW TV SHOW TV SHOW TV SHOW TV SHOW TV SHOW TV SHOW TV SHOW TV SHOW TV SHOW TV SHOW TV SHOW TV SHOW TV SHOW TV SHOW**

\- NO! 

A strong heartbeat beat a rhythm in the chest, repeating in time with the unpleasant pulsation in the temporal lobe. Each stroke was accompanied by a restless intake of breath, followed by a short, jerky exhalation. The rolling ringing in the ears also did not add joyous moments, but rather oppressed and rolled even more anxiety to the body, whose nerves seemed to be in that final stage, when they simply needed rest after exhausting work. But after the incident five minutes, the noise began to reduce its volume, and then completely disappeared.

Shaminski several times quickly blinked, as if bringing himself to the reality of the situation. His breathing began to return to normal, but heart continued to function as, if he had run a marathon. Taking his time, Thaddeus looked around, wide-eyed at his location, which was becoming less attractive with each piece he saw. The man let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the cold sweat on his forehead, then stopped and shouted indignantly. 

\- Where the hell am I!? 

His loud voice was ignored in the deserted alley, lit only by a few lamps attached to the wall of a tall brick building. There was also a faint light coming from some of the windows of an old six-story Walk-up building, the walls of which, like the structures opposite, were covered with a kind of graffiti, or rather bad language and drawings of strange content.

Thaddeus grimaced, as he continued to stare at his location. In addition, the many boxes and black plastic bags that lay a little further away, where Shaminski stood, gave off, in truth, a monstrous smell of spoiled food and other garbage, causing reflex movements of the duodenum and stomach. 

Shaminski swallowed, suppressing the desire to rid your body of long-eaten lunch, then gripped his business briefcase tightly under arm and, with a wary look in blue eyes, hurriedly turned back, sometimes turning around at unknown rustles and other extraneous sounds.

\- ’’I hope... You don't get lost’’ What a shithead Varden is...

The man mimicked other people's words with acidly, as he crossed to the other side of the dirty, deserted street.

\- ’’You are too energetic today, Mr. Shaminski... Did you drink too much coffee this morning ?’’ Yes, motherfucker! I drank my coffee with two teaspoons of hope, that I finally had a chance, so that my brain could free itself from a large number of ideas, that would first will to go into paper form, and then a little later into the shooting pavilion and only then into the fucking movie theater... What's the result?! 

Thaddeus prevented his momentary desire to pull out a few tufts of hair on head. The man in annoyance quickly lowered his hand and quickened his pace, trying to get out of this nasty place faster, which he wandered into while not in the most adequate state. 

\- ’’This is the first time I've seen such a violent reaction...’’ Oh! The insight of the great Varden! Yeah, you asshole, you don't even know what you're saying! No, this is ridiculous! Me! To create and direct a TV show! What fucking TV show? You are complete cretins! A TV show for degenerates who stare at the TV somewhere in a backwater Topeka, drinking cheap beer and having fun playing banjo!

Thaddeus coughed loudly and spat spittle at feet, and than gritting teeth in rejection of such a whim of fate. 

\- ’’Friends, let's not rush into such an important matter... We'll all calm down now, and then we'll discuss it again...’’ ...Oh, Mr. Hit... Why? Why didn't you specify what you need?! Why wasn't there a word or a hint of television in the letter? 

Then he stopped and said angrily.

\- This shitty interview made me look like a complete joke! I'm pretty sure that Varden and Heath are talking about me right now, and they're trying not to start laughing, like horses, off at the whole studio. 

Thaddeus took a few more steps, then stopped again, speaking impatiently.

\- Alright-alright-alright... Almost all the studios in Hollywood, my interview was not calm, to put it mildly... But this case will definitely go down in the history of the great director... Stop! Ha! Nonsense! 

Holding the briefcase tightly under his arm, Shaminski immediately raised right hand up and, sometimes distracting to loud laughter, said.

\- Ladies... Ahaha... And gentlemens... Thaddeus Isaac Shaminski - motherfucker, loser, and most importantly the creator of the wretched TV show! Hahaha! 

Thaddeus clapped his hands furiously, as if in hysterics. 

\- Bravo! Bravo! More! More! 

This went on for several minutes, however, Shaminski finally came to the state when it was already specifically shitty and it as time to stop the performance in the form of a one actor theater. After regaining his breath and feeling an unpleasant tingling sensation in his palms, the man started walking again,but with unusual vigor

\- Shit! 

Then he slapped forehead, after which slowly the palm crept down, and then, remaining on lips, Shaminski said, but with bitterness in voice.

\- This is a brilliant wretchedness... A talent that was revealed in the best traditions of lousy scenarios about success... And who won? Hmm? Love of beauty or desire to get aesthetic pleasure? No....

The man held out a shaking hand, not pointing at anything certain. The pupils of his eyes narrowed. Her lips trembled, as he spoke each word.

\- What is it? To divide the work on a terrible and not quite? Give a chance to the completely superficial, rather than the deep?! HOW CAN YOU LOSE A UNIQUE THING OF ART?! KURWA! 

Then Shaminski laughed with a peculiar edge to his voice. Blue eyes stung, and hands began to shake again with a short amplitude.The failed TV director and screenwriter grabbed the briefcase in both hands, leaning it against his chest and continuing to force out a laugh, trudged on with small steps.

\- I don't believe it...I do not believe...I do not believe....I don't believe... I DON‘T BELIEVE IT!!! YOU ALL FOOLS MAKING FUN OF ME, AREN'T YOU?! THIS WAS DONE IN ORDER TO MAKE A MOCKERY OF ME! GREAT! THEN I'M LAUGHING AT ALL THIS SHIT, TOO! TELEVISION IS A DUMP! WOW! I'M HAPPY TO SPEND MY TIME CREATING THIS SQUALOR! FUCK! HOW FUCKED UP IT IS! 

Thaddeus would have continued tirade with a variety of profanities, when he suddenly stopped and only frowned harder. 

Somehow, at a particularly bad time, an unpleasant thought formed in his head. A small, harmful thought, like a small, unremarkable snake, crept into the brain with subtle zigzag movements of its small body, but at first glance the usual reptile turned out to have rather venomous and life-threatening teeth, that bit into the subconscious, as if it were its reckless victim. 

\- Enough...

Shaminski quickened pace, frowning and clutching harder to the briefcase. But little thought didn't even think to leave him alone. It grew in size, absorbing concerns in incredible volumes. 

\- Enough...

He wasn't just waving it off like a pesky mosquito, it was an order to leave it alone, but the little thought had already gone too far to just lose its delicious prey. Pressing down with its growing mass, it menacingly began to exude the feeling of fear that leading Thaddeus to rapid heartbeat and sharp breathing through his mouth. 

\- I SAID STOP IT!

After that, Shaminski put one hand to head as an unassuming hum filled ears, disorienting him for a few seconds. He teeth clenched, and his long fingers dug into unruly hair, grabbing at it with all their might, then yanking it out in a frantic search for tranquility. Soon, still in this strange position, Thaddeus started walking again, more out of inertia than out of desire to get out of this dump faster. 

\- Hey, fella... You on the road?... Hey... Focus your audio...

Thaddeus strained every gyres in his brain to remove, to throw away, to stamp out that male voice with a hint of swagger. But suddenly there was another voice, also a man's, but with more cynicism words.

\- You are not worthy of praise, fella... I won't call you hipster... You know what I came up with? Nickel rat... I want to hear your howl... Your my habbit, rabbit... What a bitch you are...

Somewhere in the mind heard a giggle.

\- Stright from the fridge, fella... Is your roof leaking?...Hahaha... Hey, dudes... Damn it... It's more likely to be a naked dinner than a successful attempt to become a great man in the company of superstrange people... Am I right, dudes?

Male laughter sounded in my head Shaminski, what he wanted to hit forehead against something heavy. 

\- No, hippe... We simply constantiate the facts of this man's mediocrity... Bla-bla-bla, I am cool director... Bla-bla- bla, good editor...

With each step they took, more and more that three voices shouted over each other, creating a complete mess in poor Shaminski’s mind. Everyone wanted to Express their opinion about ’’good luck’’. Someone gloatingly congratulated on the acquisition of a job, someone grinned at career growth, and someone just openly swore the most terrible words. And all this was spiced up with incomprehensible words , utterances , whole monolags of unrelated sets of words that made Thaddeus feel as if his skull would crack.

First a small thought, and now a huge tangle of fear, phobias, and problems savored every word, every chuckle that made Thaddeus gasp for air, under the laughter of unknown male voices that appeared from nowhere.

\- I said... That's enough... I SAID STOP! 

Unknown individuals continued to discuss it with even greater zeal. Now openly humiliating him and ignoring internal pleas for an end to this torture. 

\- FOR WHAT?! FOR WHAT?! FOR WHAT?!

This in every sense a shoddy and pathetic situation, ultimately, for the relief of Shaminski, ended only when He felt a solid surface, and then, falling after a collision with a brick wall, already a pain in back. 

\- Ah ... Ah....

His blue eyes bulged as he stared up at the night sky and the dim light of the streetlamp, which sometimes turned off due to the sparse remaining electricity. Finally, he stood up, staggering like a drunkard, then touched fingers to that very brick wall, using it for own balance, and after standing still for a moment, suddenly bent over, and then coughed, feeling the almost digested food move down his throat. The urge to vomit was already impossible to ignore and, leaning even lower, Thaddeus threw up on the asphalt. 

\- Kurwa...

He said it in a short pause, and then bent down again, outputting all the food from stomach. Repeating the reflex movement several more times, until only dirty yellow bile came out of his mouth, the man was able to straighten up, touching the wall with fist. 

Thaddeus gasped for air through sharp nose, which mixed unpleasantly with the smell of vomit on the street, meanwhile small tears flowed down face, the release of which led to redness and the appearance of red thin threads on the white membrane of the eye. Spitting out a small remnant of vomit, which gave off the smell of long-rotten food in his mouth, Shaminski wiped lips and chin with free hand, where the unpleasant sticky mucus created discomfort. 

\- Fuck... 

The only good thing about this whole shitty situation was the loss of those mocking voices in Shaminski’s head that stirred soul in a not-so-appealing way. 

Exhaling heavily and dragging his feet, the man carefully walked along the wall of an unknown abandoned building. The blue eyes noticed a briefcase, lying a little further away, a little worn and slightly soiled, but still intact. In another attempt to control his body completely, Thaddeus, experiencing severe fatigue in his legs, was able to overcome only a few meters, and then, tripping, fell to his knees. 

The irritation returned, though slowly spreading through his arteries. Dissatisfied estabilishes own view and inwardly cursing ’’Sovereign’’ , the man got up, staggered, again met with the wall, as if with an old friend, and then, holding on brick building, like a lifeboat in a storm, went further.

The movement stopped when fingers felt the cold of the glass.

Thaddeus turned head slowly, meeting own reflection right in front of his nose. With a soft sigh, he carefully placed other hand on the glass and now, without leaning too much on the surface, looked directly at himself. 

What he saw didn't make him smile. 

\- You look chujowo, buddy... I'll guess... You're out of a job again, aren't you? 

The reflection just blinked a few times, repeating for owner all to the smallest touches. 

\- Voices... And that's fucking slang... I was hoping... I wouldn't hear that again... ... I haven't been this stressed... Even threw up, Heh... This was the trigger... A little bit of irritability , a little bit of unjustice , three voices of fucking immoral hipsters...and then...

Thaddeus closed his eyes and then went on.

\- I'm getting less stress-resistant...

The man let out a sad, tired sigh.Exhausted and frustrated, all he wanted now was to get home in Santa Monica faster, take a warm shower and go to bed, and then try to forget about the inspiring letter, forget about the trip to Hollywood, forget about the editing room, forget about the meeting with the producers, and, in the final stage, forget about the ’’Sovereign’’.

Again, it didn't work out. 

Another studio could be crossed off the list.

Shaminski already accustomed to the fact that cross off was something for him already too familiar.

\- Slum by the sea... Slum by the sea... 

No, no, no. This can't be happening. This can't be happening. This can't be happening.

\- Biography of the three... Biography of the three... Three...

Somewhere at the level of Thaddeus's stomach, everything clenched into an not untangled ball. With a strange gasp of air, he opened eyes, startled at what should have been in front of him, but it took him a few seconds to realize everything in head, and then he took a quick step back, falling and soiling his suit about the dirty asphalt.

\- Venice.. Venice West... Live and love among the ruins... 

He was shaking, as if he had a severe chill. Shaking negatively his head from side to side, Shaminski slowly began to crawl away from the cursed glass. The voice trailed off for a moment, and then Thaddeus heard the rhythmic thumping of a drum, that it and duet partner, contrabass, were filling in that pause, not letting Thaddeus's brain rest. The voice came again, but more solemnly, as if its owner were reading to an audience.

\- THE LOVEWAYS OF MY GENERATION! ELECTRONIC EAR! ARE YOU HEAR MY VOICE? MY SOUL? NORTH, SOUTH AND EAST! 

The man felt, as if fear had thrown him into a terrifying shock. He could not utter a word, not even the cry that Thaddeus was trying to pull out of his broad chest caught him somewhere in the middle and left the man only wheezing in impotence. The solemn voice continued to utter words without any apparent meaning, while the sounds of the drum and double bass accompanied him in a meaningless monologue.

\- DOWN WITH THE RACE! RACE! 

It was him! It was him! It was him!

\- Hey... Taduesz... 

Shaminski sharply breathed in his nose the night air, when wide eyes stared at the reflection in the glass, which with a wry smile waved hand. The music stopped immediately. 

\- Did you miss me, Tadeusz?

The man clenched shaking fists, taking the nails a dirt. The fear had neatly turned into anger. 

\- How was the interview? 

His own reflection grinned maliciously. No, it wasn't him. It was the one with the black, disheveled hair sticking out in all directions. It was the one whose long, dry fingers were adjusting his glasses near his long nose. It was the one whose brown eyes glittered with an unimaginable fire of boundless madness. This was a man whose face Thaddeus wanted to forget once and for all. 

\- You're not impressed with my monologue... It's actually a bit of fun that you're such a conservative... 

Shaminski clenched his jaw. His face was frowning. The man in the mirror adjusted his glasses again, pulling the sleeve of his black turtleneck toward his lean, unshaven face. 

\- I shouldn't have taught you to read when you were a year and a half old... You were saying some nonsense then and now... Nothing has changed...

Long eyebrows arched in the reflection, as he saw the weight of Thaddeus getting to feet and trying not to fall again. 

\- Take the old freak's advice, Tadeusz... Stop sulking about all this nonsense... If you want to be great, all you have to do is...! STAY AWAY! DON'T COME NEAR ME, YOU IDIOT! DON'T, YOU BEAST! SON OF A BITCH, WHAT ARE YOU DOING? THIS IS A MISTAKE! STUPID MISTAKE! DON'T YOU DARE HIT ME, YOU SCUM! 

The clink of glass echoed in ears, drowning out an unintelligible scream.

Finally, he shut up.

* * *

  
\- Hey, Mi-Ka-Ehl, it's already eleven o'clock! We really waited in line for too long... But the french, smelling just charming, baguette is in my hands!

The left hand with the rounded dial of a worn watch fell down, and the sleeve of a light coat immediately covered the light skin. Meanwhile, right hand held the bread a little tighter to chest, not as hot as it would have liked, but still a warm.

\- Punctuality often makes me a little sad... Although... Knowing me, you will definitely say about the slyness on my part or the omission of certain points... Yes... Worries about the fact, that you do not have time to do something, and you have a burning deadline... Scary stuff ... Oh! How delicious it smells!

  
Dark shoes kept moving in one direction, rhythmically lifting the pointed toe up. 

\- So... I talked about the deceit , remembering Mrs. Punctuality... Well... This is logical... A profitable behavior model to some extent... People don't keep up for various reasons and it's not their fault... Or maybe it's better to highlight that you're right and everyone else is stupid, and then add the laurels of victory and applause only to yourself... Yeah... And that's what caused me to lose a good friend... Oh no, no! Don't be offended, please! You are the best friend I've ever had...

The sides of coat fluttered in different directions from the accelerated pace. 

\- Perhaps the word ’’punctuality’’ is not very suitable here... No, in my situation is the appropriate, but I mean a slightly different time... The Past... Ahem... Tardiness, Delay, Stagnation... No progress and a lot of stress... This does not help the person to work, or rather does not help the imagination to work... Stress slows down progress... Or doesn't it?... Stress orders a person to work hard to solve a problem... I have seen various examples in my life that prove my hypotheses from two sides... Some were bent , others became winners... It's hard to become a winner...

The not long silence was broken by a resentful, loud click of the tongue.

\- Mi-Ka-Ehl... You've been ignoring me five hours... Are you still offended, that I stood up for that homeless artist, whose paintings were spoiled to say the least? Yes! I had a flash of anger, when that couple of scoundrels taunted him and pointed out to their own child the stupid art... You has a question, Mi-Ka-Ehl, why I couldn't have gone further, just cast a pitying glance and gone about my business?... Then I have a counter question for you, my friend, why didn't they pass by too? Why didn't they hide their snide smiles? Why did they point maliciously at the artist who was reddened by ridicule? Can't you be merciful to others? Or is this a weakness? Heh... I was not merciful to them and so I broke the nose of the head of the family... Although... What a family... Poor child...

His mysterious friend was silent, causing the other to smile wearily.

\- Please... No offense, Mi-ka-Ehl... You know very well what a fanatic I get, when someone tries to abuse creative people, even if their creation looks like shit... Can... Did they have a difficult childhood? Maybe they just don't have enough grain of talent to become an amazing poet? Or money for good, quality, art brushes? Or a warm meal that gives you the strength to dance or sing at the Opera? That's why they do it... How can we blame them for this?... Okay... I'm well aware of what a pacifist you are and all that... But... If you were in my shoes... You did the same thing... Simply... You're in no shape to get into fights right now... And your size always makes the enemy laugh, to put it mildly...

Again, no one responded to his words.

\- He may have fallen asleep... 

However, the further path, known only to a stranger, still did not pass in silence.The bustle of the roadway, where cars were trying to get to the right place as quickly as possible, the endless chatter of passers-by and no matter with a person or phone, the noise and din from local establishments of different orientation, cuisine and interests. The unknown passed by all this peculiar concert of noise and sounds, he continued to think about the incident with a homeless man, the insult of a friend and the purchase of a baguette in a popular bakery. Memories followed each other, like sweet honey, slow flowing down from the silver spoon. Then others appeared, in fragments, flashes, or a slight tinge of the past, which, as the stranger noticed, were considered distant and lost any significance in his present life. But once they appeared in his head, he was ready to accept them, as if they were good familiar, who often come to us without ringing the doorbell. 

Though proud by nature, the stranger, closing eyes for a moment, finally said, but with a growing sense of indignation. 

\- We've been all over America... I rely on you as an important friend and adviser... I forgave you for your childish antics, though sometimes I wasn't amused... I saved you when you were in trouble... And I've always shared every piece of my bread with you... Now what? All I get in return is your ignoring me? You've become practically a son to me, but you've also begun to behave like an uncouth teenager... You know, if I did this to my father, he would beat me with a stick and then take me by the hair and... 

And the rest of it never came out of his mouth, stopping somewhere in the middle of tongue. Stupor shot through the body from what he saw a few meters away. The stranger blinked to make sure that his vision was all right, but it took only two such attempts to make it clear that this was not a trick of the imagination. 

Squaring shoulders, he coughed, then spoke in a slyly tone, raising free hand to mouth. 

\- Mi-Ka-Ehl... The little bandit... You can congratulate me... Finally...I came in time...


End file.
